Auburn fire
by esama
Summary: In year 1665, Alchemist Nicolas Flamel rescues a young man who is suffering from the effects of the Great Plague of London. Timetravel story. ABANDONED
1. Prologue

**Auburn fire**

**Prologue**

There is a balance in the world, delicate equilibrium of light and shadows, death and life, diseases and cures. The scales are even, always, nothing can tip them. When there is great death and distortion, there is also great life and perfection. When there is terror, there is happiness, when there is destruction there is creation. The balance is only absolute thing in the world.

Humans obey and serve this balance even without knowing. They think they are acting on their own choices and their actions are their own, and so they are to a certain extent, but in the end everything is fated.

Dark wizards rise to try and disturb the balance, to make world of their own liking, to achieve their goals… but it never lasts. As surely as the sun raises, so do heroes. Battle of Light and Dark is one form of scales. Neither ever truly wins, darkness is never eternal and Dark Lords always fall. Heroes might destroy the Dark Lords but even so light can never fully envelope the world.

Nature also serves this balance, usually balancing something what humans have done. Famine, plagues, catastrophes… they balance actions of humans, regulate the amount of humans and remind humans of their sheer mortality. This has been the way of things since the dawn of time. When humans create something great - technology, medicine, society… something bad is created in return, something that balances.

The objective of this balance is simply neutrality. No light and dark, only natural death and natural life. No perfection and no distortion. But for as long as humans desire, dream, create and destroy, this will not happen. This is why the balance more than once turns in on us, and when we create something beautiful something ugly is created to counter it. Everything has a price, creation most of all.

…of '_Constancy and Continuum __- the Cost of Creation'_ by Evangelos H. J. P. Flamel


	2. I chapter

**I chapter **

Flashes of red and green and all shades between them burned through his mind. He couldn't understand or remember anything. Who he was, where he came from, what happened… nothing. There was only burning and pain and trashing as he fought against something holding him so strongly and tightly that he couldn't breathe or think. He knew he was sweaty, yet he couldn't really feel his body. He knew he was in pain but it was more mental than physical. Everything was so strange and dark and colourful that he could've been spirit just as well as he could've been a physical being.

Someone was talking. A gentle voice was telling him to hold on, to keep steady, and to keep on fighting. Yet drone of other voices seemed to overrun this voice - screams, roars, cries, curses, hisses, whispers and wails, one over other and other and other until they combined into one cacophonous of chaos emotions and slurring words. He could tell that some of the voices were talking to him, others begging, some crying, few accusing, one sounded disappointed and one was cursing his existence. He couldn't make out what they were saying.

It was so hot, he felt like he was on fire that was burning from inside him, flames pushing out of him to flicker on his skin. He might've screamed or moaned or something similar, but he couldn't tell for sure. All he could know was the pain and burning and the colours flashing behind his eyelids and inside his mind. It was _so_ hot, he couldn't bare it. He might've said something along those lines, but again wasn't sure.

Speaking, speaking… so many people were speaking. As he tried to fight against the heat and the colours and the pain, he could make up some sentences here than there. "Don't ask any questions!" one ordered. "You're a wizard," other told. "…terrible, yes, but great," third spoke with thoughtful tone. "And have you really got, you know…?" other inquired excitedly. "I know all about you, of course…" another told somewhat imperiously. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others…" yet another one told with suggestive tone. "Your mother's, Lily Evans' eyes…" someone told him. Then they droned away, mingled in each other so thickly that he couldn't make out a single word.

For a moment he breached though the surface of colourful darkness and painful burning. He could feel himself gasping for breath - and for a moment he knew who he was, remembered his history. Panting breath into his burning body, he stared up to the wooden ceiling, his eyes wildly following the cracks in the woodwork and strange burn mark in it, before he plummeted back into the hot, colourful dark, echoes of burning skin, splitting headache and twisting of his insides following him into the strange darkness.

Again trying to fend the darkness away, he was given glimpses of something. wizened face of ancient man, gild with bushy hair, red-haired boy with freckles, pale man with shallow skin… but soon they melted back into the shadows and colours. He twisted and turned in his body and mind, trying to regain them and get away from the incensing burning. It hurt, gods, it hurt so much.

"That's it, child, fight the plague," male voice whispered to him gently. "You are strong enough to overcome it, just keep on fighting."

Voices and pictures and memories… he remembered that he had two very dear friends. He remembered that he hated someone fiercely. Someone had died - two people very close to him had died in front of him. Fear, sadness, rage, so much anger… he was consumed in it and it was burning him just like the heat was. Wailing out in his mind at least, he tried to turn away from it. He didn't want to feel the burning anymore. Not the heat and not the rage.

"You have all the ingredients, you just need to push yourself into it," the male voice urged him gently, worriedly. "You are strong._ Will_ yourself healthy, _choose_ to be healthy, _make_ it so. You can do it."

He tried, he really tried. He tried to push the heat away, tried to ignore the anger, tried to not to see the colours, tried to stop the pain. It was so hard, so tiring, but he tried. The male voice urged him on, and for a moment it felt like he was actually doing it, like he was actually winning against the sensations consuming him.

"Blocked again, and again, and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!" the sneer sunk him back into the darkness, and he screamed in there with rage and blinding sorrow. The heat devoured him and he was falling, falling into the burning colours.

"Fight it!"

He was drowning in the heat, in the whirlpool and swamp of colours scalding him.

"Fight it!"

He was melting in the fires painfully, screaming and wailing and silent in the same time, trying to desperately fight and swim and get back to the surface, but it was so _heavy_, so very heavy,

"Fight it!"

He tried. Pushing himself to the brink he gathered all he had, and fought. He swam, he crawled, he ran and he fought. The heat remained but the colours turned darker and darker and somehow he knew he was winning. Once the colours would go away, it would be better. This thought kept him going, kept him fighting… and slowly the colours faded to black. And as he started to sink into oblivion, he could swear that the heat was doing the same.

"Good boy, that's a good boy…"

-

As he woke up, he could hear gentle crackling of fire. It was warm where he was, yet he could feel a gentle touch of fresh, cool air on his face. It caused him to sigh with pleasure - against his heated skin the cool air felt heavenly. Cracking one eye open carefully, he looked up to the wooden ceiling upon him, quickly realising that he was lying on something soft and warm - bed probably. Then, letting his eyes trail towards his left and down from the ceiling, he took in rest of the room he was in.

It was rather small. Even though the ceiling was made of wood, the walls were rough dark stone, mostly covered with shelves which then were filled with books and interesting looking items. Not that far from him, he could see a darkened fireplace where the fire was lit - it was rather generous looking fire, though by the state of the logs he could tell that it had been burning for a while. As his eyes wander over this all, his vision is strangely blurry.

Feeling a strange wave of exhaustion, he closed his eyes for a moment, before raising his hand to his forehead - or trying anyway. His arm felt heavy and strangely restrained, so it took bit more than simple thought to make it move. When it finally rose from his side, he saw that it was covered with rough bandages all the way up to his fingertips. Staring at the bandaged hand for a moment in confusion, he finally wiped it across his forehead. When he lifted his hand back into his view, he could see his sweat had dampened the fabric.

His mouth tasted horrible. Swallowing in vain attempt to clear the taste away, he let his eyes wander around in the room again. As his eyes wandered over the thick books in the shelves and the peculiar items, he caught a sight of movement in the edge of his vision. Turning his attention towards the movement, he sees door being opened in the far end of the small room. With his vision still blurry he can't tell the exact features, but he could tell the person who entered the room is a man with dark hair and short beard, dressed into earth-shaded robes and strange hat.

"Oh!" The man made a surprised sound. "You are finally awake? How are you feeling?"

For a moment he contemplated if he should answer or not. Then he figured that if the man wanted him any harm, he would've delivered that harm upon him when he had been sleeping - or unconscious, which ever it had been. "Exhausted, weak," he answered without seeing any reason to lie. His voice was rough and weak, and he could only hope that it was enough to be heard. "Where am I? Who are you?"

"You are in my home in London - well, one of my homes anyway - and my name is Nicolas Flamel," the man answered, stepping forward. As he came closer, the one lying down could see that he had strange air of agelessness about him - no wrinkles and no other signs of age upon him, yet the look in his deep eyes told that he was very old, very wise and seen too much. "You have been going in and out of unconsciousness for the past few days, not that that is anything surprising. You have been very sick, after all."

"Sick?" the one lying asked weakly, confusedly. Yes, he certainly felt sick but the man had said it in way that made it sound very serious. "Sick how?"

"Plague, I'm afraid," Nicolas shook his head. "You are one of the lucky ones. Not only are you getting better, but you also show signs that unlike many other wizards, you are going to keep your magic."

"P-plague?" the other asked in shock.

"Yes, the Great Plague of London. Surely you have heard of it, it has been raging in London all summer," the man spoke while taking seat on crude bench beside the bed. He took in the incredulous expression of the other. "You have not? How come you do not know about the great plague when it has already killed _thousands_ in this fair city?!"

"I, uh…" the one on the bed frowned a little. He couldn't remember anything about any plague, or disease… or actually about anything at all. He blinked slowly; too tired to panic about the notion of not remembering anything but he was shocked nonetheless. "I… I can't remember. I can't remember anything."

Nicolas frowned. "Not even your name? The place you live in?" a shake of head was answer to the question, causing the ageless man frown. "Unfortunate, but not unheard side effect of the plague. Some witches and wizards who survived the plague not only lost their magic but their memories as well - you as far as I can tell have kept your magic yet not your memories… very unfortunate indeed…"

There was a short silence, the only sound being the cracking of the fire. Coughing slightly, the one on the bed looked at the man beside him. "Tell me about the plague."

"Well, like said it is called the Great Plague of London - the most recent break out of the same plague that caused the Black Death," Nicolas looked tired and sad as he said it. "It has been in London for few weeks now, and so many have died. Non-magicals and magicals both. After you catch it, in six days you are either getting better from it, or dead. Most die to it, like said you are one of the few lucky ones."

Sighing the man reached for something in the table beside the bed - pitcher and cup. Pouring some water into the cup, he helped the one laying down to drink it. "Many have tried to flee it - magicals have all gathered around Hogsmeade and Hogwarts in hopes that they can survive it there. So far the plague had stayed inside London, but people fear that it might spread… these things often do, after all."

"They do?" the one lying down asked weakly. "Has this happened often, this plague thing?"

"Well, somewhat yes," Nicolas nodded tiredly. "Similar outbreaks of plagues have been happening often in the last couple hundred years, sadly enough. People say that it's rats and other pests carry it, contaminating people who then spread it accidentally among themselves… sometimes the plague doesn't hit that hard, but this outbreak looks like worse one in a while. Nothing like Black Death, but quite serious nonetheless."

"Black Death?"

"The greatest plague in history, it killed millions," Nicolas whispered while placing the cup to the table. "It has been little over three centuries since, but it still causes nightmares and spreads fear. Especially in times like this, everyone fears that it will happen again…"

The one in the bed nodded, closing his eyes to rest them for a moment, before looking up to the other man. "Do you know me?" he asked weakly, suddenly wanting to change the subject from the disease.

"No," Nicolas shook his head. "I found you from the street not too far from my home and decided to help. I could sense that you are magical and as I'm immune to the disease, so helping you wouldn't harm me."

"Thank you," the other spoke sincerely, is eyes drifting shut again. "W-what happens to me once I heal?"

"We'll think about it then. You just rest now. Merlin knows you need your rest."

-

Next time he woke up, the ageless man was already in the room, sitting in a crude bench near the fire, reading a thick book. This time the one lying down found much to his delight that he didn't feel as tired as he had before - he still felt hot, his lungs felt strangely stuffed and his skin felt as if it was on fire, but at least he wasn't tired. Trying to move into more comfortable position alerted the man by the fire who immediately looked up.

"Oh, wake again? Good, it looks like your energy is returning," Nicolas said while standing p and coming to check upon him. After giving him a bit of water, the strangely ageless man spent few moments inspecting his face and neck before checking his chest and arms. "Good, you are indeed getting better. I suspect you'll be strong enough to get up in no time."

"Thank you," the one lying down thanked with a low, dry voice.

"Now, do you think you could eat something? I've been giving you few Potions to keep you alive while you slept, but you need real solid food," the ageless man told. When he was given a nod of agreement, he smiled. "You just wait for a moment, I shall be right back with little bit of stew for you."

While waiting, the so far nameless person on the bed sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, before letting them travel in the room. It really was small and stuffed, without any decorations at all. The window near by had simple curtains made of rough looking dark fabric, the glass was stained and muddy and the windowsill was slightly broken and filled with dusting books and small wooden boxes. Underneath the window there was a small cabinet filled with small bottles of varying colours. Upon the window there were small satchels and bundles herbs hanging from the ceiling, drying probably.

Nicolas returned with a tray holding a bow, cup and a bottle. "As you are still more sick than not, I doubt you can hold anything too solid inside you, so… broth and milk has to be enough for now. Later we can see if you can ingest bread and maybe little bit of meat." Sitting beside the bed, the ageless man placed the tray down to the table before turning to the nameless patient. "Let's get you up so that you can eat…"

Sitting up was surprisingly difficult and little bit of painful, but with Nicolas help the nameless person was soon propped against the wall with a pillow or two behind his back. With his hand shaking and weak, there was no way he could hold the broth bowl in his hand, so Nicolas held it for him, helping him take small sips of the cooling stew. It was nothing special, just some soft vegetables and hint of meaty taste, but the nameless patient hoped that it would be enough to settle his stomach.

"Have you remembered anything? Your name for example?" Nicolas asked. "I need to call you something, you know."

While swallowing the broth, he thought about it. He could remember the voices that had had been speaking in his head when he had been sicker - or memories of conversations. "I… I remember the names Lily Evans… and Potter, I think," he frowned a little. "I'm not sure about Potter. It could be me and it could be someone else, but I think Lily Evan's was my mother."

"Was?" Nicolas asked. When the other one couldn't answer he frowned a little. "Well then… how about Evan Potter? At least for now, until you remember more. Good. Now, take some more broth…" After the broth and the milk were all gone, Nicolas placed the dishes aside and looked at him curiously. "So, how are you feeling?"

"Hot and bit achy, but I'm not as tired as before," newly named Evan smiled a little. He leaned his head against the pillows behind him and glanced at the room. "You have many books," he noted out curiously, hoping that Nicolas would distract him from his sickness and from his lack of memories.

"Yes, well…. I usually have quite bit more; this is just a temporary house for me. I usually live in France, but at this time I find it prudent that I stay here, in London," Nicolas smiled in somewhat morose manner. "As for why there is so many of the books, well. I'm bit of a scholar you could say. Scientist and inventor as well. And great part of my work is research."

Evan looked at the ageless man curiously. "What kind of scientist are you?" he asked carefully.

"Well… people of my occupation aren't exactly held in high honours right now - too many bad eggs and failed experiments… but I'm an Alchemist," Nicolas smiled. "I specialise in magical substances and Potion ingredients. Mostly I work with Potions and try to improve them and occasionally, when I get the mood, I try to invent my own Potions as well."

"That sounds amazing," Evan whispered wistfully, imagining what it would be like to be able to create things. "Is it hard, being an Alchemist?"

"It requires studious mind and great amounts of patience, but I don't think it's hard," Nicolas smiled while leaning back thoughtfully. "Anyone could be an Alchemist, if they just studied enough. Potions making, on the other hand, requires a touch and intuition. Anyone can make a Potion by using the recipes and instructions, but it requires great deal more to be able to make a Potion without recipes, and even more to be able to create a Potion. Understanding of the ingredients, equipment, time and situation… if you have them Potions making is easy for you, but if you don't then you'll always need a recipe and always brew Potions that have been invented by other people."

"And you have that… understanding?" Evan asked curiously.

"I suppose I do. I didn't in the beginning, in the beginning I too needed recipes and my Potions were ghastly, but eventually… eventually I begun to get the understanding required," the ageless man smiled widely. "I still need to study, though. Both Alchemy and Potions making will always require studying - as they both are vast academics, growing greater and larger with each and every new Alchemist and Potions master. You can never know enough, not to even mention knowing everything."

Evan nodded thoughtfully, trying to ignore the way his throat was suddenly burning. "It would be nice," he mused thoughtfully. "Being an Alchemist, being able to create things…"

"Yes, I suppose so," Nicolas murmured, sounding sad. "Yet sometimes even the greatest creations have their faults and side effects and sometimes great deeds can be repaid with great misery." Evan looked at him curiously, but the ageless man merely shook his head and smiled. "How about I give you a book to read about Alchemy? Just something about the basics so that you can pass the time? I have book I am looking to finish also, so… you can read, right?"

"I think I can and that sounds nice, thank you," Evan smiled, and was soon given a thick leather cover book. "Aperture of Alchemy," he read from the cover before flipping the book open. Nicolas chuckled and took the dishes away as the other started to read. Soon the ageless man returned and returned to his reading as well. Soon the room was basking in comfortable silence, only interrupted by crackling of the fire and occasional sound of someone turning the page.

-

"There are many kinds of Alchemists," Nicolas told Evan later. "There are those who specialise in substances like me. Then there are those who are merely Potions oriented. Some are what I like to call herbal-Alchemists… I know few who create magical items, some who are one of the rare breed of Alchemists who use Transfiguration and Transmutation… and one who is quite skilled in mixing Arithmancy, Astrology and Alchemy, he gained his Alchemist's title last year, in year sixteen and sixty-four. So, like told, there are quite many breeds of Alchemists."

He looked towards the sickly pale young man who was listening intently and smiled. "Alchemy, as I see it, is a blend of many magical sciences - and of course the pearl of _the_ magical science. It's understanding magical forces and energies, and manipulating them doing new, wonderful things. Alchemist doesn't just use spells taught to him or the Potions, no. He understands why the spells work they do, and why the Potions cause the effect they do. He understands the why and the how, not just when and where."

Evan nodded thoughtfully. "If it's so widely ranged, then… what makes Potions oriented Alchemist an _Alchemist_ and not just a Potions Master?" he asked curiously.

"I'm glad you asked," Nicolas beamed. "Officially the difference is very small. Once a Potions Master creates one Potion never created before, he is dubbed as Alchemist. But to be a _true_ Alchemist, you need to be able to create one effect with at least ten different ways with different ingredients. You need to not just understand that if you use this and this ingredient the result is this, but you need to understand _why_. What in the ingredients causes the effect and how the ingredients react to each other... things like that."

"Now, I realise that there are some highly skilled Potions makers who understand the _why_ also, but difference between Potions Maker and Potions oriented Alchemist is also the way you look at things. A Potions Master uses magical ingredients to brew magical Potions, but Potions oriented Alchemist will use other ingredients just for the heck of it. It has all to do with the angle person have on life and pride. Some greatest Potions makers were so proud of being Potions Masters that they declined the title of Alchemist entirely."

"And," Nicolas continued. "To become official Alchemist in the eyes of other Alchemists, you need to join the Alchemic Guild. That isn't as easy as it sounds - you can only join if you are voted in and as Alchemists tend to be quite picky, you have to be something inspiring to be able to become part of the Guild. In the last fifty years, only two persons of all hundred who have tried have been voted into the Guild."

"Are you part of it?" Evan asked carefully.

"Yes. I've been part of the guild longer than any other member, in fact," Nicolas smiled. "I would be the Chief of the Alchemic Guild too, but I let one my co-worker take the position as I am mostly busy with other things."

Evan nodded in fascination, before looking down o the book in his lap. "This book speaks of the elements," he said thoughtfully. "What are those?"

"Air, Fire, Water and Earth - or Cold, Warm, Wet and Dry," Nicolas explained. "It's an old theory, says that everything consists of these things. Certain Chinese theory says that Metal and Wood might also be elements and that there is no Air element, but I'm not entirely sure what to think about that. Some theories say that Air and Water creates ice, Water and Fire creates rain, Fire and Air creates lightning, Fire and Earth creates metal, and so forth, but I'm not sure about that either. I'm not the biggest supporter of any of the element theories, really."

"What do you believe in, then?" the sick young man asked.

"I believe in pairs," Nicolas shrugged. "I believe that everything in this world happens in pairs. Cold and warm, wet and dry, birth and death, health and disease, richness and poorness, pain and pleasure, creation and destruction, happiness and misery. Magical and non-magical," he smiled a bit. "Though of course there are things which fight with the theory. Something which is neither cold or warm, children who are born dead, those who live average lives with average amount of money, those who re-create already created things and those who destroy ruined things…"

"It could be that between one and other there is neutrality?" Evan suggested. "Between birth and death there is life, between black and white there is grey."

Nicolas looked at him with shock, before turning thoughtful. "I think you may have a point there, Evan," he muttered, looking impressed. "You my boy must have unique insight on things to be able to think of something like that on the spot!"

"I don't know about that," Evan muttered embarrassedly. "It just popped into my head, that's all."

"Well, be sure to voice any other things that pop into your head," Nicolas smiled encouragingly. "I'm always up for suggestions, especially if they have something to with Alchemic theories."

-

In the following days, Evan read several of simple theory books of Alchemy while Nicolas went about his life somewhat normally. Most days the man would leave for hours and return with sad, morose look on his face before starting to silently read as if to distract himself from whatever was making him feel bad. Evan guessed it had something to do with the plague, but decided not to ask as the ageless man didn't seem to be up to talking about it. Sometimes, however, Nicolas would start talking about it on his own, as if to just get it out of his chest.

"It is such a chaos out there," the ageless man sighed while rubbing his eyes. "You can't walk down the street without seeing someone sick and the smell is absolutely horrible - not just the smell of the sick and the dead, but the incense, the tobacco, the smoke. Non-magicals think that they can ward the plague off by using strong smells, and fires and scented handkerchiefs… They're urging their children to smoke tobacco and such in hopes of keeping their bodies clean. And the church bells, they're driving me mad," the ageless man muttered with annoyance. "They're ringing them day and night it seems, I think they think that the sound will help them and drive the disease away."

Evan could just listen and try to understand, but it was somehow hard even though he had been suffering the same disease. Sometimes he felt guilty for surviving the plague when people were dying in such alarming rate - according to Nicolas, thousands of non-magicals died _per week_. It wasn't something Evan's mind could easily grasp.

"The magicals are handling it better," Nicolas murmured, looking bitter. "But that's no wonder, now is it? They can just Apparate away and be safe! Then they turn a blind eye to the disease even though our own kind is dying just as the non-magicals are. The wizards and witches who try to help are so rare… so very rare…"

"They're whispering about closing the gates of London too," the ageless man sighed, running his hand through his hair. "With this rate the Mayor might not have any choice. People are dying so fast, and the plague mustn't spread outside the city. But I fear what will happen to the people inside the city once the gates are closed…"

With a sad smile, the ageless man then turned to Evan. "Well then, what have you read today?" he asked, probably hoping that discussion about Alchemy would distract him from the darkness looming outside the room. Evan complied and told him about the Transmutation Theory he had been reading that day, which lead into talk about Arithmancy and Runes.

"As I don't do Transmutations that much - or at all - I can't really say much about it, just what I've heard and read. They say that the rune circles of Transmutations usually support the idea of the Elements, in any case," Nicolas explained thoughtfully. "They say that the rune circles tend to work the best with the theory of Elements. For example if you have a square in your circle with one Element in each corner, it will balance the Transmutation and give it extra boost of energy."

"What about the pairs?" Evan asked curiously. "How do the pairs fir into Transmutation?"

"Well… in both Transfiguration and Transmutation there is one thing which makes me believe into the pairs as well. Whatever you Transmute or Transfigure always weights the same before and after the Transformation," Nicolas said. "No matter if it's bigger or smaller, it weights the same. Law Equivalent Trade, some Alchemists call it, something of certain value for something of equal value."

"And I guess that value isn't weighed in gold and silver" Evan muttered thoughtfully. "Sounds more like something about density."

"Most probable, though I'm surprised that you know about density in the first place. Not many do - wizards or otherwise," Nicolas looked surprised. "You are certainly full of surprises."

Evan smiled slightly before looking down to the simple rune circle drawn into the book. "So… what function do the runes have?" he asked. "Or the geometry itself?"

"Geometry is there to stabilise the circle - giving the magic paths to flow steadily in. And the runes of course determine the task - give the magic orders. It's basically the list of instructions for the magic," Nicolas shrugged. "Though a bit more complicated than simple _do this and this_. As runes themselves are highly magical, their value in the circle has a great deal of weight. It all needs to be calculated carefully with Arithmancy - the magical weight of the runes as well as the orders. It has to be very precise; usually the preparations for Transmuting take days and days whilst the Transmutation itself takes only few moments. That's why people use it rarely and only to create things which cannot be created otherwise."

They talked long to the night while Evan leafed through the book lazily and Nicolas tried to hide his worry and sadness because of the situation outside the house.

-

Evan wasn't sure how many days he had been confined to the bed when Nicolas finally allowed him to get up. "You need a bath, desperately," the Alchemist told him. "I've readied the water for you, now we just need to get you up and to the bathroom."

Thankfully it wasn't as difficult as Evan had thought. He was still weak since the disease, but with the help of the elder man he managed to get up and walk from the sitting room to the hall, and down it to the small bathroom where wooden tub was waiting for him, filled with steaming water. Evan felt no false modesty as Nicolas helped him out of the simple clothing and the bandages which had been there to hide the remains of the bubos and swells on his skin. Apparently the plague caused them, and Evan had had plenty when Nicolas had found him. They were receding now, but even so they weren't pretty sight.

"It looks like they're healing well," Nicolas murmured while examining Evan's neck and the area around his armpits where the bubos were concentrated to. Evan said nothing as he sat down in the tub, just enjoyed the warmth. Since he had started to heal, the warmth and heat had been leaving him, until he had felt more cold than warm. Even though it revived the nightmarish memory of being so badly ill, it felt nice.

"Hopefully they won't leave scars," the Alchemist said before reaching for a glass bottle. Pulling off the stopper, he turned the bottle around and started to pour the thick clear liquid to Evan's shoulders. Then he took a wash cloth and started to rub it over the young man's shoulders, the liquid forming foam and bubbles while he did so.

"I can wash myself, you know," Evan said mildly, but couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of being washed after being sickly and dirty for long.

"I know, I just thought I would lend you a hand with your back. You might find it difficult to reach your back after being sick," the Alchemist shrugged and scrubbed Evan's back thoroughly before handing the wash cloth to the young man. "There you go. Just call me if you need something."

"Uh…" Evan hesitated. "Could you, um, stay here?" he asked carefully. "I don't mean to sound like coward or anything, but, uh… in the past days I have fallen asleep out of the blue, so…" he looked at the ageless man hopefully.

Nicolas smiled and sat down to the low table near the door. "I'll stay, sure. I wouldn't want you to fall asleep and drown in your bathwater," he chuckled and Evan smiled carefully before starting to wash himself with the rough cloth. The Alchemist looked at him for a while before folding his hands and leaning onto the wall. "I tried to find out your relatives and if someone was missing you - tried to look for Potters and if there was any woman named Lily Evans around."

Evan looked up with curiosity. "I did find the Potters. Two households, one in Godric's Hollow and other lives in London…" Nicolas sighed. "Sadly, neither is missing any family members and none of them knew anyone named Lily Evans. Lord Jacomus Potter promised to keep his ears and eyes open, though."

"Lord?" Evan asked carefully.

"Head of the Potter family," the Alchemist explained. "You can't remember the magical hierarchy? Well, each of the so called prestigious magical families has a lord who is supposed to govern their families and protect them among many things. I think I may have a book about the magical hierarchy somewhere in the sitting room, I'll see if I can find it later."

Evan nodded before turning to look down as he started to wash his knees. "And… they really weren't missing anyone? They didn't know me?"

"They didn't," Nicolas looked sad. "I'm sorry, Evan, but it may be that you are magical child from non-magical household. Potter isn't that rare family name among the non-magicals. And you must understand that looking for your family in the non-magical world will be very difficult. During times like these…"

Evan nodded again. "It's alright, you don't have to waste your time with it," he smiled to the ageless man. "I've already taken enough of my time. Once I heal I'll search for them on my own."

Nicolas frowned a little before leaning forward. "About that," he said, stretching the words thoughtfully. "You've proved time and time again that you have innate ability to grasp the theory of Alchemy and everything else we've been talking about in these past days. I wouldn't mind if you would you stay here, not at all in fact… I think you would make a good student for me."

"Me?" Evan asked with surprise. "Me, studying Alchemy? Are you serious?"

"Very. You have strange casualness in the way you understand things, and that is sign of natural talent in most cases," the Alchemist nodded. "Perhaps you could stick around at least for long enough for us to determinate how far this talent of your reaches, hm?"

The young man thought about it for a whole, before nodding carefully. "I'd be honoured," he answered with a smile.

---

This story has been in my mind for a long while and I've tried to write it in various ways. Alchemy has always sounded like interesting subject to me, but it was never properly explained in Harry Potter, so I wanted to write someting about it - and about Nicolas Flamel. Also, I've been wondering why Flamel never helped people with the dark wizards and such when he was such a powerful alchemist, this story centres around the reason why. Reviews are much appreciated as always.


	3. II chapter

**II chapter**

Evan stared out of the dirty window into the darkness of the evening. The plague and everything around it was peaking. According to Nicolas, the non-magicals were getting desperate. Tens of thousands house pets had been killed in order to stop the plague from spreading, the inns and bars had been closed, and finally as June had begun, the gates of London had been closed. Yet killing the cats had only made things worse, as the rats carrying the plague had begun to multiply…

The situation had carried over to the magical world as well. Diagon Alley had been closed after the Potions shops had been sold empty, Gringotts was barred, and Leaky Cauldron had closed its doors. Floo network was temporarily down in London, anti-apparition wards had been erected around the city and there were talks about owl post being halted as well. Some were even killing owls, thinking that the birds carried the disease as well.

Evan himself had been getting slowly but steadily better. He could already walk a little without help, and was finally out of the embarrassment of bedpan thanks to the fact that he could visit the loo now. He still had small fainting spells and his temperature went up and down randomly, but he was still getting stronger.

Turning his eyes to the book lying in the table before him, Evan smiled a little. Much like with Nicolas, Alchemy had become his escape from the dark, painful world. It was surprisingly easy to just pick a book and fall into the knowledge it contained, in the mean while forgetting everything about the remains of the disease. And because Nicolas's library was rather extensive, Evan never ran out of things to read - he never got bored either because the library was filled with tomes of varying subjects.

Nicolas himself wasn't there at that moment - he rarely was now. Evan wasn't absolutely sure what the man was doing when he was outside, but as he looked sad always when he came back the young man suspected that it had something to do with the plague. Maybe Nicolas was trying to help the people with his Alchemy or something similar - or trying to urge the other wizards to do something. If the man's glumness was any indication, he wasn't very successful with whatever he was trying.

Yet, Evan thought to himself a bit more cheerfully, Nicolas seemed to shed his sorrow when they talked about Alchemy - which they did every time they could. They talked about Potions, about magical substances, about geometry, about magical theory, charms, transfiguration and transmutation, about astronomy and astrology, even divination… sometimes they even talked about non-magical sciences and inventions made by the non-magical people. When they got the talking started, though could go at it for hours, just pondering and throwing ideas back and forth. Evan smiled a little, happy that he could help in someway to drive the sad look from Nicolas' face.

Hearing a sound from the corridor, Evan looked up. "It's me!" Nicolas's voice called from the hall. It was followed by shuffling of clothing as the Alchemist helped himself out of his outer cloaks. Soon the ageless man walked into the room, frown marring his face and dark look about his eyes.

"Nicolas? What has happened?" Evan asked quietly, knowing immediately that something must've happened for the Alchemist to look like that.

"They banned owl post in London," the ageless man answered, holding a parchment envelope in his hand. "Every owl, which tries to get out of or in to the city, will be killed by the city's wards."

Evan frowned a bit too. With muggle post, Floo and now owl post all banned, there was no way for anyone to send word in or out of the city. "So… we're very much trapped in here," he muttered and brushed his hair out of his face.

"Yes, it seems so. At least until the plague ends," the Alchemist sighed heavily before sinking to sit on the other chair. "Not that _that_ matters much to me anyway, I'm not going anywhere from here until the plague has ended… but with the post down I can't send letters to my wife," he looked at the parchment envelope sadly.

Evan blinked. "You're married?" he asked with surprise. Nicolas hadn't mentioned a wife before.

"Yes," the Alchemist smiled, showing his left hand where he had the wedding band. "For quite some years now. Perenelle is right now in France, though. We both agreed that I wouldn't go there and she wouldn't come here during the plague, that we would keep in touch by letters, but now…"

The young man looked at the Alchemist sadly for a while, not really knowing what to say. "I am sorry," he then said.

"Don't be, it is not like it is your fault anyway," Nicolas shook his head before placing the letter gently down to the table. "Perenelle and I have gone through worse, we can handle this easily. It just seems bad right now, with everything else escalating."

Evan nodded, hesitating a little before speaking again. "How are things going outside otherwise?" he then carefully asked.

"Hmm… well, with the gates closed, the certificates of health, which allow people to pass, are more valuable than gold," Nicolas shook his head. "People are forging them now and their trade is growing each day. Everyone wants to get out of London, it seems… like rats abandoning the sinking ship. It is understandable, but each person who passes through those gates with fake certificate is a possible carrier of the plague, off to infect more people."

The young man nodded sadly, knowing that the only way to stop the plague from spreading would to isolate the entire city, but that couldn't be done with so many people inside, not with so many people in panic. They wanted to out, hoping to outrun the plague, hoping to live. They were hardly thinking about everyone else at the moment, no… just their own lives, but who could blame them with someone dying every day, every hour from the plague?

"So, what have you been reading today?" Nicolas then asked, looking at the book before Evan curiously. "Rune circles again?"

Evans nodded sheepishly. "I just find the theory of elements fascinating," he said. "Especially the Chinese theory. It just… works so smoothly that it could be plausible."

"Smoothly?" Nicolas asked curiously. "How so?"

"Well, in the Chinese theory there are the five elements. Each of them as one element they strengthen and one element they weaken. Water strengthens Wood and weakens Fire, for example," Evan recited from memory. "When you but them into circle with Fire, Earth, Metal, Water and Wood going in clockwise in that order and then draw lines between them along the order of strengthening and weakening, you get a pentagram in circle."

"Hmm…" Nicolas nodded. "It's no wonder the Alchemists who are best in transmuting originate from China," he murmured. "But I don't see why that would be so fascinating."

"Well, in the western theory there are only four elements - Water, Fire, Erath and Air," Evan explained. "Water and Fire are counter forces but… that's about it. They don't really, logically balance each other and there is no smoothness between them, but with Chinese elements you have two steady flows of power, a perfect circle and pentagram, which feeds itself. If the Chinese elemental circle works like it is made out to work in the books, then… it's perfect, it cannot be broken and it constantly powers itself."

"There is nothing perfect in this world," Nicolas denied with stern look. "If something could be perfect, it would either collapse onto itself or be ruined by its counterforce, imperfection."

"Yes, I thought about that too, but that's the beauty of Chinese Elemental circle. It has pair in it, it has two counter forces. Strengthening and weakening, and not only that there is fife pairs," Evan smiled widely. "Weakening: Water weakens Fire, which weakens Metal, which weakens Wood, which weakens Earth, which weakens Water. Then strengthening: Water strengthens Wood which strengthens Fire which strengthens Earth which strengthens Metal which strengthens Water. It's… balanced."

"I see," Nicolas nodded. "I can't understand why metal would strengthen water, though."

Evan motioned to the water pitcher standing on the table - it was made of metal. "That's not all what's interesting about the Chinese circle. The Chinese Elements also have actions. Metal splits, Water drills, Wood crushes, Fire explodes and Earth crosses."

"And that is special because…?" Nicolas seemed to be lost. "I'm sorry, but the elemental theory has never made much sense to me."

Evan shrugged. "I don't know," he mused thoughtfully. "I just have a feeling that it's important somehow. And it is really fascinating to me."

Nicolas chuckled. "I'll see if I can get more books for you about the theory, I don't think I have that many in my little library - I might have more back in France, in Philosopher's Grotto, but as the times are we might not be able to get our hands on those for a while."

The young man hesitated a bit. "I'd like that, but you don't need to bother for my sake…"

"Nonsense, it's not a _bother_ to help aspiring young science student to quench his curiosity," Nicolas waved his hand dismissingly. "It's a pleasure in fact. I'd imagine that seeing where you might be going with this is going to be something quite interesting to watch."

-

By the time of July, Evan was completely healed from the effects of the plague. After the young man had been spending nearly two months inside just reading and waiting to be healthy again, Nicolas finally deemed him strong enough to take stroll outside - and see what the plague was doing there. Thanks to having lived through the illness, Evan now had immunity to the plague and therefore had no need to take any safety measures when going outside. So, after he had dressed up into clothing which had been shrunken for him by Nicolas, he followed his teacher out of the small house and into the dirty, unkempt street of London.

He wasn't sure why, but what he saw wasn't what he had expected - and it had little to do with the sick or the people trying to desperately ward off the sickness. No, it was the streets and the buildings, for some reason they didn't feel quite… right. Some of the grander stone buildings did seem familiar, but the rest… and the muddy streets…

Trying to shake away the strong sensation of wrongness, Evan followed Nicolas down the street, the two of them walking in the street's side so that they wouldn't get into the way of the horse-pulled carriages and such which rushed up and down the street. "Non-magical aristocrats and merchants, or the few who still remain in here," Nicolas explained to Evan when the young man looked after the carriages with curiosity. "They rarely breath free air these days, going around in carriages and such. I guess they think that the air is contaminated."

Evan nodded thoughtfully and glanced at the Alchemist. "Where are we going?"

"To the slums," Nicolas answered glumly. "Where the suffering caused by the plague is the worst."

And indeed it was. In the dirty area of the city where the poor lived in wooden houses, you couldn't look left or right without seeing house with barred windows and red cross in the doors - which was a sign of contaminated household. Almost all of the houses in the slum area were marked by red. In the silence of the afternoon as hot sun poured over the dried streets, Evan could only hear their steps and the low wails and moans coming from the houses.

Then, the church bells started to echo over the eerie calm. Looking towards the sound's direction, Evan saw the pointy peak of the nearest church, which was ringing its bells. "They're still trying to ward the plague off by sound," Nicolas shook his head sadly. "Or maybe they're trying to call upon god to help them, who knows. All I know that it is very unlikely to work in either case."

"This way," the Alchemist motioned his student to follow. "There lives a poor magical family here too. I have been trying to help their daughter with Potions - the parents are beyond help right now, all I can do is to prolong their death - but the daughter might yet survive…"

Evan followed Nicolas to the even dirtier, waste filled back streets and there to one door, which seemed to be hidden in a veil of flickering shadows. Disillusionment charm or maybe notice-me-not charm or something of the sort, the young man wondered as Nicolas knocked the door. The charm was probably only reason why the door hadn't been marked like the others were.

"It's me, Nicolas. Open the door, Monna," the Alchemist spoke in low tone, and soon after the door was opened to reveal young red-haired girl dressed into ragged clothing, with bandages covering her neck. She looked at Evan sharply. "It's okay," Nicolas assured. "Evan is immune too."

The little girl hesitated before nodding and opening the door. Evan walked in after Nicolas to see that the house consisted only of a single room with kitchen ware in one corner, few boxes and trunks in another and three beds against one wall. In two of the beds there was someone sleeping there - red haired elder woman in one and bald man in other.

"Amelia and Charles are sleeping then?" Nicolas asked from the little girl kindly while Evan stared at the sleeping adults with somewhat stony expression. One could see with naked eye that the two of them were beyond help - their necks were filled with boils and buboes, they were drenched in sweat, and beside their beds there were metal buckets apparently in case they got sic - and by the looks and smells of it, they had, many times.

"Okay," Nicolas smiled soothingly to the expressionless little girl who had yet to say anything. "I brought you and your parents some Potions and food again." The Alchemist un-shrunk a small basked which contained loaf of bread, bottle of what looked like milk and few Potion phials. "You remember which you need to take and which your parents need to take, right? The grey ones are for your parents, and the dark green ones are for you. Mouthful twice a day."

The little girl nodded, taking the basked into her thin hands and holding it close. She still said nothing and by the looks of it she wasn't going to either. Nicolas smiled to little Monna one more time before motioning Evan to follow him out. The girl closed the door tightly after them.

"The Prewetts," Nicolas said sadly. "The main Prewett family is quite wealthy, but in every family there are branches like these, poor people completely forgotten and ignored by their family Lords who are supposed to be looking after them. Amelia and Charles probably won't live to see the end of the week and I really don't know what will happen to poor Monna then. The girl's so headstrong and proud that I doubt she will agree to take more of my help."

Evan looked at the Disillusioned house for moment before following his teacher towards another house and another family Nicolas was trying to help despite the fact that he wasn't a healer. "Do you help non-magical families?" he asked from the Alchemist once he had caught up with the man.

"No. So far when I've tried I've only managed to make things worst for them and haven't been able to save any of those non-magicals I've tried to help. Magical people have a higher tolerance for diseases, so they are easier to help," Nicolas sighed heavily. "The next family we'll visit is a non magical family, though. Mostly anyway, one of their sons is magical and I've been trying to help him to overcome the disease, but unless he has been getting better since my last visit I'm not sure if he'll make it."

In that house, they couldn't go inside because the house was completely barred. Instead the Alchemist could only slip the Potions through a small hole in the door the nurses used to deliver the family food. Asking few questions from the muggle born young wizard, Nicolas came to the sad conclusion that the young man was unlikely to survive the plague. Evan wasn't sure if he thought it was a good idea or not, but Nicolas told of his conclusion to the poor sick wizard. Surprisingly enough the wizard thanked Nicolas for all he had done, instead of accusing him. The Alchemist didn't seem cheered by the thanks at all when they were walking away from the house; instead he seemed saddened by them.

After visiting half dozen similar houses, the Alchemist and his student finally turned and started to head back home, both feeling glum about what they had seen. Evan was less saddened by the sickness than Nicolas, though, and it made him wonder why the plague was hitting Nicolas so hard. The Alchemist seemed to take it in strangely personal way, feeling guilty for every sick person they encountered and even more so for those he couldn't help.

Evan decided not to ask about it, for now. Nicolas seemed to need some time to sort out his thoughts and didn't need his student start picking on him right now. So instead they waked back home in silence, and once there they filled the uncomfortable silence with discussion about Alchemy, once again distracting their selves from the bitter reality.

After that initial visit to outside world, Evan started to accompany his teacher most of the days to the slums. Nicolas didn't mind, actually he seemed to enjoy the company and little support Evan could offer.

-

Much to Nicolas' disappointment, his student was little good in front of cauldron. He could make Potions with recipes, but that _understanding_ of ingredients, the number of stirs, the time and such… Evan completely lacked it. Even with recipe, the young man was more likely to fail than succeed in making the Potion he was trying to make.

But that didn't slow the two of them down. Nicolas just concluded that Evan's ability was in some other field of Alchemy, and left Potions to himself. With what little the Alchemist had in his home in London and what little he could gather from the city, he fed Evan's curiosity about the Elements and Rune Circles. It eventually led them into the decision that young apprentice needed to learn runes - which was more of a happy discovery than sad, as it was enough to make them busy for many, many evenings.

In the middle of August, when Evan was one quarter through his rune studies, he and Nicolas were visited by a wizard from the Wizarding Council. From the very first moment Evan didn't like the man - and he could see from his teacher's face that Nicolas hated the man fiercely.

Valerius Malfoy was the man's name; he was the Lord of the Malfoy Family - long like of purebloods according to Nicolas. The man was dressed into rich forest green robes with expensive looking embroidery in the fabric, and he had long silky looking platinum blonde hair - sign that in city of filth and disease he had the money to keep himself perfectly clean. The way he glanced around Nicolas's humble abode was loud and clear indication of the fact that he himself lived in quite wealthier house.

"To think that man of your reputation and expertise lives in a… house like this," Lord Malfoy mused half to himself rather than to Nicolas. His eyes came to rest upon Evan, and sneer formed to his thin lips. "And who might this be? I didn't know you had children." The way he twisted the word _children_ in his tongue made it seem like foul curse.

"Evan is my student," Nicolas answered coldly with narrowed eyes.

"Evan _who_?" Lord Malfoy sneered.

"Evan Potter," the Alchemist answered once more in icy stone before taking step to stand between Valerius and his way to enter the house. "Now, what might you be wanting from here, Lord Malfoy? These aren't exactly the parts of the city you are usually seen, if I remember correctly."

"Certainly not," Mr Malfoy said, looking disgusted by the idea of hanging around in such neighbourhood. "But sadly this time I must be here. I'm here on official Council business, you see. The Wizards' Council has seen it prudent to call upon you and your… expertise once more, Alchemist Flamel."

Evan could see his teacher pale because of the words. "And what…" the Alchemist spoke slowly, each syllable of his words filled with ice and fury in the same time, "might the Council be needing this time? Because if it's something similar to their last request, then you'll have to drag me to the Council Chambers to get me to participate with anything they are planning."

"Do calm down, it's undignified to become agitated by such little matters," Valerius Malfoy sneered. His sneer widened as Nicolas grind his teeth together and pressed his hands into fists, visibly trying to stop himself from attacking the man. The magical noble snorted softly. "No, I believe these callings have more to do with matter of… _funding_, rather than _health_."

Promptly the pale man pulled out a scroll of parchment. "Here is the summons. I'll look forward seeing you in the Council Chambers, Alchemist Flamel." Before turning, the man let his steel grey eyes linger on Evan for a moment. Then he left as swiftly and arrogantly as he had entered.

While Nicolas read through the summons with rage written all over his face, Evan frowned. Nicolas had told him about the Wizards' Council - collection of the most powerful and most wealthy wizards around. Once, long ago, other races than just humans had been in the Wizards' Council, but with each Chief of Council, the definitions between Beast and Being had been tightened, until humans were only living Beings and everything else was classified as a Beast. Nicolas had never seemed to like the Council, more than once loudly criticising what they did and how. Evan didn't like much of what he heard either, and now that he had met one of the Council members, he liked it even less.

But he was still curious. What made Nicolas hate the council that much, and what were the matters of _funding_ and _health_? Too curious to be hesitating, he looked at his teacher from top to toe. "Nicolas?" Evan asked carefully. "What is the summons about?"

Nicolas glanced him sharply before frowning. The anger in the ageless man's face melt into resigned tiredness and he shook his head. "Well, I guess it's about you found out," the man muttered and rolled the parchment into tight scroll. Then he walked into one of the bookshelves and pulled out a thin manuscript. "Read this and I'll tell you about my greatest creation," the Alchemist told him, and then left him alone with the thin book

Confused, Evan pushed aside the books about runes and took the manuscript into his hands. It had plank covers, but in the very first page there was written the title of the manuscript. "Blood Red Stone." Intrigued and more confused, Evan begun to read. After first page, he grasped that the manuscript was about the holy goal of most Alchemists; the Philosopher's Stone. Soon after he realised that it was written with the handwriting of his teacher. And then he understood that the manuscript wasn't speculation or theory. They were _after notes_.

"I created the Philosopher's Stone about three hundred years ago," the Alchemist told in quiet voice after Evan had read through the entire manuscript. "More because of luck than skill actually. When I was younger, I came to own an incredibly old book which had many theories about the subject and after many trials and errors I finally, almost accidentally, created the stone." With that said, he pulled out small leather pouch from his chest pocket, and then revealing the blood red stone inside it.

"With the stone, Perenelle and I have lived for longer than any human ever has before," the Alchemist muttered, pocking the stone with strange distaste. "And like the notes say, with the stone I can create as much Elixir of Life and as much pure gold I want. Well, I can transmute it anyway; the process is a bit more complicated than simply ordering the stone to do something. The stone just a magical substance with an effect just like any other magical alloy, it just happens to be the strongest and most valuable magical matter in existence…"

Evan frowned at his teacher's tone. If Nicolas hadn't sounded so bitter and sad, Evan would've thought that the stone was eternal happiness in physical form - as much life and money you could wish! Yet Nicolas sounded so pessimistic… there had to be more to the stone than gold and Elixir of Life.

"But everything happens in pairs," Nicolas whispered darkly. "It's the stone which originally made me believe in pairs. I didn't notice it at first, too excited about being rich and immortal I guess… but eventually I started to notice. If I made little bit of elixir and little bit of gold, it was fine and everything was normal. But if I made large amounts of the elixir, large amounts of gold… something bad happened too. What happened didn't seem to be involved with the stone at all, but when it happened enough times I started to believe that what I did and what happened was connected."

Evan blinked slowly as his mind connected the two things. "When you use the stone in large quantity, like creating lots of the Elixir… something balances it. Elixir gives healthiness and life, therefore…" his eyes widened in realisation. "The plague."

"You really are smart boy, Evan." Nicolas smiled bitterly. "Do you remember what I told you about the Black Death?" he asked suddenly.

"It started from Asia and spreaded fast, later years of thirteen-forty it hit Europe and killed… killed millions," Evan frowned. "But what does that have to do with this?"

"I was twenty-four when I got the book which helped me to create the stone," Nicolas smiled darkly. "And after that the Black Death started to subside. When I created the stone, it was completely over - at least for that time."

"So… according to the pair theory, you creating the stone balanced the Black Death?" Evan frowned. "That seems rather farfetched."

"Oh, it does, doesn't it?" the Alchemist chuckled darkly. "And I hardly paid any heed to it back then - I was just happy that I would be immune to the plague and wouldn't have to worry about dying ever again. I revelled in my immortality and forgot about everything else, I created lots of gold and spend it with glee…"

"By the time I was eighty, I begun to feel that something wasn't really right - or actually it was Perenelle who noticed and made me notice. It frightened us both so much, that we faked out deaths and went into hiding for a while," Nicolas frowned. "But then, in late sixteen-twenty the International Confederation of Wizards came to me, demanding me to use the stone to grant them longer life. Back then it was rare for wizard to live to be older than sixty, and as I and Perenelle had lived for so long, they demanded the same for themselves…"

The Alchemist's smile turned strained, mechanical and cold. "By that time I had shed myself of any worries and thought that it was a brilliant idea. With a group of skilled Alchemists, I tested and theorised until we came up with a variation of the Elixir of Life. It would not cause optimal health like the usual Elixir does, but helped to fend of the age. It also had a lasting effect on the drinker so that the effect would be passed on from parents to children until it would become natural after few generations…"

He grimaced. "As soon as we had had few dozen families take the Potion, there was a large outbreak of the same disease which caused the Black Death. The Great Plague of Milan, which killed almost three hundred thousand people in Italy…"

Evan stared at him with a frown, not knowing if he should be shocked, appalled or sad. Not looking at him, Nicolas continued speaking. "I didn't know… I didn't realise. The others paid no attention to it, after all, Italy was just another country. We were in France so it hardly touched us - and if we had succeeded in our attempt, pureblood wizards would now live up to hundred and fifty!" he laughed bitterly. "No, they didn't care. They were too happy to care."

"Twenty years later, the Confederation came to me again. This time they wanted me to enrich the natural healing of wizards so that they would be less likely to die because of accidents," the Alchemist continued speaking. "I didn't want to at first; I was too worried about possible consequences, but… in the end I bent into their will. We theorised, tested and again created a Potion which heightened the healing of pureblood wizards…" The Alchemist chuckled somewhat desperately. "My price for that feat of Alchemy and Potions making was Great Plague of Seville in Spain and over tens of thousands dead."

Evan swallowed a little, trying to rid himself of the bitter taste which was rising up his throat. "A-and… the plague here, now…?"

"With so many pestilences going on in the world," Nicolas spoke in almost mocking tone, "they got scared. This time they wanted me to make purebloods immune to muggle diseases." he snorted. "I declined at first, but little good that did to me. Alchemist or not, three hundred and counting or not, I'm not much of good when it comes to duelling. After handful of not so subtle threats and with dozen wands pointing at me, I created the Potion for them, and now…" he looked sadly out of the window.

"I never wanted this, I never wanted any of this," the Alchemist whispered bitterly. "But it's still my fault. That's why I'm here now even though I could be in France. That's why I try to help those who live in the slums…"

Evan stared at his ageless teacher sadly, before lowering his eyes down to the table between them. "But if you made them immune to the muggle diseases, what about those in the slums…?"

"They're not pureblood and therefore don't have the protections I created," Nicolas shrugged. "And as they aren't purebloods, other wizards and witches don't care about them. And before you say it, no, the Prewetts aren't full blood. Amelia has non-magical parents, which is the reason why they are shunned by the rest of the family. Purebloods are like that."

Evan frowned. "What is the Council demanding now?" he asked quietly.

"Gold," Nicolas shook his head disgustedly. "Lots of gold, because what better way to deal with misery and death than riches and worldly possessions? Especially now when Gringotts is closed."

"And… what is likely to happen if you make the gold for them?" Evan dreaded the answer.

"Something horrible, probably," the Alchemist shrugged miserably. "When something is created, something of equal value is destroyed this is the Law of Equivalent Trade."

-

Evan had hardly enough time to comprehend what Nicolas had told him, when he was faced with a problem. Though post going in and out had been banned from normal folk, it seemed that Lords of the pureblood families still had the privilege of working post. And thanks to that, Evan got a letter from the Lord of the Potter Family, which stirred the troubling days even more.

Lord Jacomus Potter had talked to Lord Valarius Malfoy and heard about Evan from him. Lord Potter had come into conclusion that Evan was impostor, using the Potter family-name when he _wasn't_ part of the family. The Lord was demanding Evan to stop using it and if he would fail to comply, the lord would be forced to challenge him into duel to death. He also made under note about the name Evan, as the previous Potter lord had that name as well.

"Purebloods!" Nicolas snorted with great distaste. "Somehow this kind of bickering is just like them these days. They hardly care about things which are truly important these days, no. What matters to them are three things; Name, Wealth and Fame."

"What will I do?" Evan asked worryingly. He didn't want to face the lord in formal duel to death, but the names were almost literally all he had. He didn't want to part with them this easily.

"Well, we'll just name you again," Nicolas said thoughtfully and looked down to his student for a moment. Then he grinned mischievously. "How about Evangelos? Evan for short."

The black haired young man smiled, feeling a little better. "What about last name?" he asked carefully.

"We'll leave that open for now. It's not like you need last name at this moment. Between us you can still be a Potter, and once things have calmed down with the plague, we'll think about the last name, hm?" Nicolas smiled in the way that told Evan that he already had something in mind. Evan decided to trust in him and nodded.

Together they wrote back to the Lord of the Potter family, agreeing to the man's terms and telling that Evan would be Evangelos for now. Thankfully the Potter Lord seemed to have deep rooted dislike anything involving the word _angel_, probably because of the non-magical religions, so he agreed to the change readily and buried the whole matter, leaving Evan alone after that.

The matter of the council and the gold, however, wasn't buried as easily. The council members were screaming for gold, unable to reach their own which was behind lock and key in Gringotts. Nicolas's stone was their only way to get money at that time and because of that they certainly weren't beyond threats and such. The ageless Alchemist managed to avoid the matter for nearly two weeks, until in first of September, when Hogwarts students returned to school, he was forced to give in under the threats.

Evan waited nervously in their home while Nicolas was in the Council Chambers creating gold for the greedy Council members. The student wasn't sure which he was waiting to happen first - the Law of Equivalent Trade to kick in, or his teacher to return. In any case, he fells asleep against the table, still waiting, and was woken by his teacher when first of September had turned into second of September.

By that time, London was already in flames.

---

I changed the history to suit my needs. In actuall history, the Great Plague of London lasted from early summer of 1665 to September of 1666, and on September 2 of 1666 there was the Great Fire of London, but I changed it so that fire happened year early, because I'm too lazy to write an full year.

About the time frame, Hogwarts was founded around 993 or before, so it has been around great deal of time during these happenings. Ministry of Magic, on the other hand, hasn't been founded yet, but there is the Wizards' Council, which was the predecessor of the Ministry of Magic. Nicolas is right now about 339 years old.

Also, don't expect this pace with the story to continue, I was just lucky that I got enough inspiration to write the second chapter this soon, it probably won't happen again. why and how harry is in the past will be explained in the story, so i won't begun spilling it now. and thank you a bunch for the reviews, and woah, already five C2+? I'm flattered.


	4. III chapter

**III chapter**

In the Great London Fire, as it was later dubbed, over three quarters of the mostly wooden city burned - that was over thirteen _thousand_ houses. The fires reached the sky even while the east wind fanning the fire broke the pillar of smoke, and fires continued to burn all the way from the second to fifth of September. Nothing anyone could do made the fires stop, and so the people of London just watched helplessly as their city burned.

Evan was one of the many watching the city burn, and he knew as those nightmarish flames reached towards the sky, that he would never forget it. He had never read the Bible of the non-magical religion, but he still had strange sensation or maybe ghost of a memory, which told him that the sight was like out of apocalypse - and many others believed it as well. As the city burned, many cried and screamed and prayed for their god to forgive them for whatever sins they had committed. They thought that their god was punishing them by burning their homes - many believed that they would vanish along with their possessions.

"The price of creation," the Alchemist murmured while watching yet another house catch flames. "Something of certain value for something of equal value. Apparently I created enough gold to rebuild this all - but if that gold is used to rebuild this all I'll eat all my books."

Nicolas's house was one of those which burned in the fire, being in the less-wealthy neighbourhood and made of wood just like many other houses in the city. Evan guessed that Nicolas could've saved his house with magic or Alchemy if he really had wanted, but the Alchemist chose just to stand back and watch it burn - just like he watched everything else burn. Each and every house Nicolas took personally, feeling guilt for every person who lost their homes and most of all for those who died in the fire.

"And now what?" Evan asked more from himself than from his teacher, when finally in fifth of September the fires had subsided, leaving the city in complete and utter ruin. Everywhere you looked at you could only see ashes, and ruins of burned down houses. Only the stone buildings and such had survived, and the poorer parts of London had been completely eradicated.

What would happen those thousands of homeless people? Those who had lost all their worldly possessions? What of those who had died in the fires, who would die in the following winter now that they had no homes? What would happen to London now? First the plague and now this, how could the city handle it? Or would it not, would it break under pressure and be the capital no more?

One somewhat good thing came out of the devastation. After spending long moments of speculating about the plague, Evan was positive that the fire would put an end to it. With the slums gone, along with most of the people who had been infected by the plague as well as the rodents carrying the disease, there weren't that many sick people or contaminated places left. The fire had very cruelly sterilised the city, and if it would still be able to grow in the ruins and ashes then it was one persistent disease indeed.

"Now we look for survivors," Nicolas answered to his question quietly, before turning his back to the ruins of the house which had been his. With a sigh, Evan stood up from the ground and followed his teacher down the ash filled streets. They weren't only ones prowling around the city - there were many, who were looking for possible survivors or what remained of their homes. However, Nicolas and Evan were the only ones whose footsteps led them to the poorer parts of London, and to the place where the fires had started and where it had been the worse.

Of all the wizards and witches of non-magical or half-blooded descend who had been infected by the plague and who had been helped by Nicolas, only three remained. Those were Monna Prewett, Nathan Bones and Ernest Smith. Evan and Nicolas found Monna from the ruins of her parent's house, she had apparently returned there after the fires had subsided and was sitting silently and absolutely still when they arrived there. Nathan Bones, young man of twenty four, was found in similar place, but he was sitting in the street before the ruins of his old house rather than in the ruins themselves. Ernest Smith, ten-year-old boy, was sitting by near well, trying to get the ash from his hair when they found him.

"What will we do?" Evan asked while holding nearly rigid yet very exhausted Monna in his arms. All three of Nicolas's _protégés_ were healthy, only Ernest was still showing slightest signs of having suffered the plague at all - he had red spots in his neck, memento from the swells. None of them needed the Potions anymore, but… they were all penniless and had no home to stay in.

Nicolas watched the three they had collected from the ruins and sighed heavily. He seemed troubled and hopeless - not that Evan could blame him. Monna's parents had died weeks ago, but she had still head strongly declined all help attempts which hadn't had anything to do with the plague. She had been living alone for a while, even though she was only six. Nathan was the same; he hadn't even wanted to accept the Potions at first. Ernest had been in similar situation as Monna - his parents had been dying while he had been showing smallest signs of being able to fight of the disease. His parents had died few days before the fire and since then he had had scowl in his face.

Nicolas sighed again and ran his hand through his slightly ragged steel grey hair. "The fire had opened the gates of London and forced the Council to take the wards down," he spoke, causing Nathan to look up. "So, as we are no longer cooped up here, I suggest that we'll leave. Nathan, you have family near Cambridge, right? Can you go and stay with them?"

Nathan frowned before nodding. "They're all non-magicals, but I think so. I could earn my keep by helping around their farm…"

Nicolas smiled and nodded before looking at Ernest and Monna. Evan knew that the children did raise a problem. Ernest would begin Hogwarts next year so he was a bit easier to handle - where ever he would live, he would only spend the next year and the following few summers there, but Monna was only six, and she would need to wait five years before Hogwarts. Though Ernest too had a bit of a problem - the spots. No orphanage or family or farm would be willing to take in a boy who showed the signs of the plague.

"I think it's best if we'll take the two of you to France, and to my home," Nicolas finally decided. "Next year Ernest will attend Hogwarts and Monna can go to Beauxbatons if she wishes to."

The little girl frowned before shaking her head sharply - Ernest was scowling rather darkly too. "I don't think Monna wants to go to Beauxbatons," Evan said quietly while letting the little girl fall to the ground, as she had begun to struggle in his arms. "Also, I think both of them are against you offering them pity and charity this way."

Nicolas frowned a little, looking down to the headstrong children, before nodding slowly. "Very well then, Monna has to help Perenelle in the farm to earn her keep and Ernest will be forced to get an apprenticeship to a non-magical occupation."

While the two kids glanced at each other with similar frowns, as if asking what the other thought of the proposition, Nicolas' own apprentice worried. "Isn't that a bit harsh? Ernest is only ten," Evan said with a slight frown. Before the fire he had seen occasionally non-magical shops and such which had had apprentices working in them - the apprentices were treated almost as if they were free labour and nothing else. "Also farm work is fairly hard… even if it's just an herb farm."

His words had the effect he hadn't really reached for. As the kids understood the upcoming harshness of _earning their keep_, they nodded in unison, accepting the Alchemist's proposal. "What do I have to apprentice under?" Ernest asked, the frown never leaving his face.

"That we'll decide after we'll get to France," the Alchemist answered and turned to Nathan. "But first we need to seek contact with your family in Cambridge."

-

After Nicolas had pretty much dropped Evan, Monna and Ernest in Philosopher's Grotto with a Portkey, the Alchemist himself had returned to Britain, not about to leave until he knew that the plague he felt guilty for had ended. So, Evan and the kids were left in the Alchemist's wife's hands - and those hands were indeed capable, if the large, well kept herb farm was any indication.

Perenelle Flamel was cut of similar material as her husband. She had steel tinted light brown hair, her face was completely ageless and her eyes were old, very old. The way she moved, acted and spoke hinted of the knowledge she had gained along her long years, but even so she maintained similar spark of youthful mirth in her eyes as Nicolas. She, much like Nicolas, wore strictly functional clothing instead of dressing into rich fabrics decorated with expensive embroidery - and like Nicolas, she didn't seem to want anything more. Actually, she looked quite content the way things were.

Philosopher's Grotto, the home of the two oldest human beings in history, was really a very lush farm. The house itself contained two stories and was strictly made of stone so that it would last longer. It was surrounded by Perenelle's herb farm - she was the Potions ingredients supplier for a Potion's shop in Paris and of course for her husband who according to her used nearly full quarter of the herbs she grew. The farm itself was more of a garden than actual farm - though well kept, Perenelle's green thump required no stick lines and ruler-like order.

In the house, Evan was immediately assigned his own room and showed the magically expanded library which contained all the books and tomes the old Alchemist couple had gathered during their long years. While Perenelle accommodated Ernest to a room which had been storage and Monna in the kitchen, Evan slowly wandered in the large library, awed by all the knowledge his teacher had gathered there.

"Feel free to read anything and everything you want," Perenelle had said. "Nicolas will probably take months in Britain. I'll take care of Monna and Ernest, so you don't need to worry about that either."

And that was exactly what Evan did. While Monna started to learn how to weed garden and such, and Ernest start his apprenticing under watch-maker, Evan practically moved into the library and started to devour book after another, consuming all the theory he could about everything he was curious about. Whilst everything in the library was related to Alchemy or Potions, there were still books about other subjects as well. Reading about Transfiguration, Charms and such made Evan realise that whilst he had indulged himself in Alchemist studies for some time now, he had paid no attention to his magical skills. He didn't even have a wand.

One morning at the downstairs kitchen - which was more of an herb storage and Potions lab than a kitchen - Evan mentioned about this to Perenelle while the woman was showing Monna how to properly tie herb twigs to be dried and Ernest was eating his breakfast before he would Floo to Paris. "Wand?" the ageless woman asked thoughtfully while almost automatically using one of the nimbler twigs to bind the other twigs into bundle. "I hadn't even thought about. Nicolas and I haven't used wands in years - Nicolas likes to do everything by Alchemy and I prefer more hands-on approach on things…"

Evan nodded - he had noticed the complete lack of "normal" magic in the Philosopher's Grotto and that Nicolas hadn't used wand either. "I don't really need it either," he mused out loud. "As pretty much everything I do is read and you really don't need magic in that, but… it would be nice to have a wand and practice normal magic now and then. Just in case something happened and I would need it."

"Well… I suppose we could visit the wand maker in Paris and get you a wand. We could buy some books for you - ah, maybe not just yet," the woman frowned a little as if getting another idea. She looked at Evan with stern look. "You'll no-doubt have great many difficulties trying to find any English magic books in Paris. How about you learn French and then we'll get you books and wand? How does that sound?"

Evan frowned a little. That had been one of the things he hadn't paid much attention to - as Perenelle and Nicolas both spoke perfect English there hadn't been need to study other language… but they _were_ in France now. Ernest was learning French too - even though his master knew English as well, many of their customers didn't. Great amount of Nicolas's books were written in French as well. Slowly Evan nodded. "I'll study French first."

Thanks to Perenelle, the language studies weren't as difficult as young Alchemy-student had thought. Perenelle was good teacher too, though she wasn't as patient as Nicolas she helped Evan gladly with things the young man had difficulties understanding. When Nicolas finally left Britain and came to France, Evan was mid way through his French studies.

"Is the plague now over?" Perenelle asked after Nicolas had unpacked what little he had brought, taken a bath and changed his clothing.

"At this time, it does seem so," the Alchemist answered. "There was a small village which was infected by old clothing sent from London, though. Eyam in Derbyshire. I surely hope that Britain will remember the sacrifice and heroism of that little village - they quarantined their village willingly and refused to leave until the plague ran its course there. Only few dozen of the entire village survived the plague."

Evan smiled sadly at that while Perenelle asked if there were any other outbreaks outside London. Having experienced the plague and the horror of it himself, he could understand how brave that little village had been. In the beginning there was probably only few people infected and the rest were seemingly healthy, but still they quarantined their village to prevent the plague from spreading, even the healthy staying in their homes, risking the infection… and then the first infected the others until only few survived. It must have been horrible for the people of that village.

"Well then, how has things been going on here?" Nicolas asked from Perenelle and Evan while glancing at Monna who was carefully grinding dried up leaves in a porcelain bowl.

While Perenelle explained about Ernest's apprenticeship underneath the watch-maker Noé Blanc and Monna's studies in herb-growing, Evan continued to wonder about the village of Eyam and what would happen to those villagers who had survived the plague. That's why when Nicolas asked him something, he was forced to ask "Excuse me?" in return.

"I asked how your studies have been going?" the Alchemist repeated the question with a smile.

"Ah, yes, right. Well, at first I randomly read whatever I found interesting, mostly about things of the rune circles and elemental theories and such, but then Perenelle suggested that I would study French, so I've been concentrating onto language since," Evan nodded towards the woman. "I think I'm getting along well, all thanks to your wife."

"Evan's quick study too, he has neatly grasped the language already. He only has some difficulties with writing," Perenelle smiled. "I wasn't much good in that, as I don't write much."

"Well, how about we get that done so that we can move onto other fields?" Nicolas smiled to Evan who nodded. After that the Alchemist and his student left the Herbologist and her student alone, heading up to the library where they took up few books, quills, ink and parchment.

"How is the Wizard's Council doing?" Evan asked carefully while Nicolas leafed through one of the French books, trying to find something easy teach probably. "I mean… after the plague and the fire… what are they doing now, with that gold you created for them?"

Nicolas sighed and shook his head. "What they always do. Nothing. I'm not sure what they did with the money, as Gringotts was opened week after they got that gold. Lord Valerius Malfoy is planning on building a bigger mansion and some kind of summer house so I can tell that the money wasn't left to gather dust in his vault. Lord Cygnus Black is _repairing_ his mansion after the fire, which is strange as it was never touched by the flames. Lord Gianzar Lestrange is doing god knows what with the money, probably building too as it seems to have come to fashion…"

"And they are not helping the non-magical London?" Evan asked quietly.

"Of course not, wizards and muggles don't go together these days," the Alchemist sighed. "Most purebloods consider muggles weaker and inferior and muggles fear wizards because of what few of them have done to them - muggle baiting is just the beginning of it. Before the council finally managed to put an end to Necromancy, there were few very dark wizards out there who would torture, kill and maim muggles before using their dead bodies in rites, sometimes reanimating the carcasses as undead slaves. It was quite nasty. That's one of the reasons why Alchemy is frowned upon these days - quite many of the Necromancers were Alchemists in the beginning."

Evan frowned. He head read about Necromancers fleetingly, and hadn't really wanted to think about it at all. It all seemed horribly twisted and wrong in so many levels, using dead human bodies in magic… shaking his head he glanced his teacher. "Has the Council demanded more of you?" he asked carefully.

"Not at this time, but I think it's only the matter of time," Nicolas shook his head sadly. "Now that they have realised what I can do for them, they probably won't bother stop using me. Greed when acted upon only grows stronger. Humans have been like that for too long to change at this time."

Evan frowned even more darkly. He really didn't like the idea of the Wizard's council, and he liked the idea of them using the Philosopher's stone to their own ends even less. In their greed they were harming countless amounts of innocent people, and that was something Evan couldn't take. While Nicolas attempted to distract him from the matter by starting to teach him written French, Evan promised that he would somehow find away to stop the Council from using Nicolas and the stone again.

-

Time went by as time usually does. After Evan had came to somewhat understand French in suitable level, Nicolas took him out to buy a wand and some books about magic. He didn't hide the fact that he wanted Evan to concentrate on Alchemy, though, implying that magic could be like a hobby for the young man. Evan didn't mind that, he was already too deep in Alchemy to turn back now.

As the autumn started to turn winter, Evan was knee-height in Astronomy, Geometry, Runes and all other sorts of Alchemy-related subjects - and shoulder-height in Transmutation. After Evan's initial curiosity, Nicolas had assumed that his student was most curious about that subject, so it was the one they mostly concentrated on - or Evan did as it wasn't really Nicolas's field. Evan himself didn't mind as he did truly find Transmutation interesting. And as he mostly studied it by himself, it also let Nicolas to concentrate onto his own things, so the student didn't even feel guilty about taking his teacher's time.

It was first of December when Evan did his very first Transmutation. In Nicolas's study, he drew the simple circle and the runes to the floor with a chalk, and then he took a pile of sand and Transmuted it into solid stone. It was nothing single Transfiguration spell couldn't handle easily, but unlike with Transfiguration, Transmutation was permanent. The stone wouldn't turn back into sand unless it was physically grind. In the end Evan's first Transmutation was very simple one, but it was a major stepping stone for him.

As Nicolas urged him on, Evan started to do more and more Transmutations. What he did was always small and simple, just little items, first of them without actual meaning. It had no other meaning but to hone his skills in _detail_. Nicolas, who was very strict about Alchemy, had infected Evan with his perfectionism, and that trait was forcing Evan to practice after practicing until he was doing handful of small Transmutations per day.

By the time of Winter Solstice, he could do some more functional items. From sand, iron and wood he Transmitted tools for Ernest for his apprenticeship. From wood, wool and some linen he created a doll for Monna. He also made some gardening tools for Perenelle and new chair for Nicolas, who had broken his a while ago and hadn't come around getting new or fixing the old. What he created he gave away as Solstice presents.

Ernest, who hadn't been allowed to try the tools of his master's shop, had been ecstatic about what he had gotten. Perenelle had hugged him and congratulated him of doing good work. Nicolas had sat in the chair he had made the entire night. And Monna, still silent and serious, had actually hugged him as thanks before giving a tiny satchel in long leather string. There were sweet smelling dried herbs in the small satchel. "She grew them herself," Perenelle told Evan, who thanked the little girl in return, before hanging the satchel around his neck.

After Winter Solstice Evan took a break from Transmutations to study Astronomy. As the lining of the celestial bodies had an effect on Transmutations, he needed to study it before he would move on with his studies. But when he started to study, he noticed that his vision wasn't good enough. Even with telescopes, he could hardly make out the stars and planets he was trying to see. The world had seemed blurry before, but now it started to be a real problem.

"I think I may need glasses," he admitted to Nicolas in the next morning. That day they went to London to see Optic about getting the needed glasses. After he had been tested and his glasses had been crafted, this started to look whole lot clearer for Evan.

"Muggles invented eyeglasses, right?" he asked from his teacher few nights later when he was on the rooftop of the Philosopher's Grotto house with his teacher, peering at the stars through telescopes.

"Yes, they did. I believe it was Arabian inventor who created them about eight hundred years ago," the Alchemist answered while bowing before his device, eying the stars above. "Though some Italian was the one who invented the first wearable eyeglasses."

"Muggles invented telescopes and sextants too," Evan murmured thoughtfully. "Watches as well if memory serves."

The Alchemist looked up from the telescope. "Sextant was invented by Persian inventor I think… Telescope by Dutch lensmaker by the name of Hans Lippershay - even though muggle he was nice fellow, knew whole lot about glass. And watch, if I recall, was invented by the same Arabian who invented glasses," Nicolas pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Pocked watch however was invented hundred and half years ago."

Evan smiled a little, not entirely surprised his teacher knew these things and could recite from memory. "All by muggles," he said. "Tell me, what have _wizards_ invented, as in devices and technology? I don't mean spells or Potions - or even Transmutation because muggles invented geometry. What have wizards invented?"

"Floo network, though fireplaces were muggle invention," Nicolas frowned. "Brooms were also created by muggles, we just made them fly… wands maybe, but as I recall the very first wand was created by accident…" he trailed off thoughtfully. "Now that I think about it, wizards take muggle inventions and turn them magical to suit their own needs," he glanced at his student. "I don't know where you're going with this, though."

"Wizards hardly invent anything because in a way we need nothing of that sort - we have magic and Potions and all that to ease our lives so we don't need inventions," the young man spoke thoughtfully. "I'm not sure where I'm going with this either, but I think we should keep an eye on the muggle inventors and sciences… it feels important."

Nicolas nodded. "It doesn't sound like bad idea," he agreed before looking through the telescope again. "Nice bright stars tonight," he mused.

"Hmm…" Evan bowed to peer through his telescope as well, frowning a bit when his eyeglasses collided with the device. Trying to ignore the slightest discomfort caused by the spectacles he was still getting used to, he looked up to the stars. "It would be nice to know which of those stars are dead and which are still alive," he mused out loud. "It would help immensely in various subjects."

Nicolas glanced at him with surprise. "Which are alive and which are dead? Care to explain what you mean about that? They look all pretty alive to me."

"Yes, that's exactly it. What you see is what the stars were," Evan looked up from the telescope and up to the sky. "Like everything else, even light takes certain amount time to travel from one point to another. You can't see it travel because it's so fast, seemingly instant to human eye, but stars are so, _so_ far away, that it takes _years_ for their light to reach here." He motioned to the sky. "So what we see there could very well be light of stars which have died long ago."

Nicolas stared at him with shock. "T-there have been some theories that light does have certain speed and isn't constant thing which simply exist, but… I was never sure if the theories had any truth of them. _How_ do you know that?"

"I don't know," Evan shrugged. "I just do. It seems almost obvious to me - kind of like the fact that sun is a star and Earth is round and Jupiter is mostly made of gas. I just… know. I think it's something I have learned before I lost my memory, but I'm not sure."

"In that case you seem to know more than I do. Jupiter is made of gas?" Nicolas sounded astonished.

"It may have a more solid core, but yes, mostly gas," Evan shrugged. "At least that is what seems true to me." He bowed again to look through the telescope. Nicolas shook his head in confused awe as they continued to examine the celestial bodies.

-

"I've heard that with Transmuting you can make things grow - plants, trees… things like that," Perenelle mused to Evan one early morning when the winter started to turn into spring. She looked at the student of her husband curiously. "Can you?"

"Hmm…" Evan thought about it for a while. So far he had been Transmuting only inanimate and dead objects, but she did raise a fair point. There had been Alchemists who had combined Herbology and Transmutation in order to make things grow faster - few of those Alchemists had even created plants of their own. "I guess it is possible. With the right material - dead plants and such - it shouldn't be difficult. Give me a few days and I'll see how it's done."

Transmuting plants was whole lot harder than Transmuting dead material. Plants were supposed to be alive and grow even after the Transmutation, so they would be trickier than wooden doll or metal goblet or something similar. They had to be functional and to be able to function - roots and leafs and all. In order to be able to do it, Evan needed to understand how plants worked. Thankfully Nicolas had nothing against it - it was quite the opposite actually. So, in that spring, Evan began apprenticing under Perenelle as well.

At first he couldn't make the heads or tails about plants - he could understand that if you planted seeds and watered them now and then they would grow, but that was pretty much it. Why one plant needed wet muddy soil and lot of moon light while other like dry sandy soil and lot of sunlight escaped him entirely - and why one plant needed to be in complete darkness to grow made absolutely no sense to him. So, Perenelle started to teach him from the basics - anatomy of flowers.

When Evan understood that roots consumed water and minerals and leaves consumed sunlight and carbon dioxide while releasing oxygen, it started making sense. "It's much thanks to plants that we can breath clean air," Perenelle told him and Monna, who was also learning about plant anatomy. "However that's with normal plants. Magical plants are slightly different."

"Magical plants have many different functions other than providing oxygen. Some of them take the excess magic left after when humans perform spells and turn it into pure magic again. Others consume magic and before magical in return. And as there are many different kinds of magic there are of course different plants for them and different ways of consuming the magic. For example, Fluxweed when it has consumed the light of full moon can be used for Polyjuice Potion. Any guesses why?"

Evan thought about it. "Because moon vanes, changes. I guess the magic Transferred in the light of full moon has that effect on Fluxweed, giving it the magic to… change things."

"Exactly," Perenelle nodded, looking pleased. "That is why magical plants require different and somewhat strange habits to reach their complete potential."

After studying the plants with Perenelle for some time, Evan decided to take his Herbology studies into more… precise levels. He urged Nicolas a bit until the Alchemist bought the first microscopes into Philosopher's Grotto. Again strangely satisfied with the muggle technology, Evan spend long hours studying the inner structure of plants until he knew more about their insides than he ever imagined he would.

And once he deemed himself ready, he decided to try it. His first attempt of creating a living plant - Daisy - from dead plants was a failure; the plant came out dead and withered. After that failure, Evan spend long hours contemplating where he went wrong, until he came into the conclusion that you couldn't use something that was dead to create something living, not without something enabling the life in the creation. Spark, ignition… that was what was needed.

Next attempt happened with dead plants and single Daisy seed. The result wasn't pretty, the plant was mangled and crooked, but it was alive and lived for nearly three days before the leafs completely fell off. Cheered by the success, Evan tried again and again, carefully counting the correct amount of materials and the right rune formula, until he finally, after month of trying, managed to create perfect daisy which continued to live on thorough the entire summer.

Slowly but steadily Evan moved on with the plants, from non-magical plants into non-magical trees, using the Philosopher's Grotto's backyard in his experiments. Perenelle and Nicolas both watched his development with certain pride - both urging him to move onto magical plants, both hoping that he could create something new and wonderful.

It was just week before Ernest was supposed to leave to Hogwarts to begin his magical studies, when Evan finally decided to attempt magical plant. He theorised it carefully and decided that trying to create a magical plant would take a bit more than the normal rune circles he had been using - it would need something more potent. He needed to add elemental formula to the circle.

After little contemplation, he decided upon using the Chinese elemental formula because it had circle-of-life build into it, the natural order which was just… right for something like this. He was more than just slightly excited when he was drawing the circle to the back ground - it was his first time using the elements in Transmutations so it was understandable that he was excited. Even though he had calculated it all carefully from the runes to the geometry and from the material he would be using to the material he was supposed to be creating, he had that hopeful-doubt playing in the back of his mind. What if he would fail? What if he would succeed?

"You'll do fine, Evan, there's no need to be so nervous," Perenelle laughed at him after watching him twitter nervously for a while. "Cloudsage isn't that complicated plant, now is it?"

Evan smiled a little. He had picked the Cloudsage, plant usually used in waxes and other substances used on flying things, because it was really a simple plant. Light and small, it required very little water and nutrients but lots of light and air. When it was fully grown it would detach itself from its roots and hover upon the ground, shedding it seeds while being carried on by the wind. Because its density was nearly nonexistent even while it was rooted, it was should be easy plant to Transmute.

"It's just my first time using the elemental form, I guess I'm little nervous about that," Evan said while standing up to examine the circle he had drawn. It was biggest he had yet made, mostly because of the elemental formula surrounding it.

"Understandable," Nicolas nodded. "If you wouldn't be worried about messing with the elements, then I would worry."

Evan nodded again before stepping back. "I guess this is it," he murmured before kneeling to the ground beside the circle. Taking a deep breath, he channelled magic into the circle, giving it enough nudge for it to start functioning. Immediately the line and runes he had drawn started to glow, first white and then green. Still holding his hands upon the circle, Evan watched in amazement how the elements he had drawn started to glow. Fire glowed red, Earth in yellow, Metal in white, Water in blue and finally Wood lit into green glow. The glow drew lines between the elements, creating pentagram in circle just like it was supposed to.

As the material he had placed in middle of the circle started to shine in green light, Evan smirked with satisfaction. He was doing it, he was Transmuting a magical plant, it was working. The material started to change until he could make out the familiar shape of the Cloudsage, rooted to the ground in the middle before it snapped free from its roots and begun to float.

Evan laughed victoriously. He had done it, it had worked! Watching the Cloudsage float, he grinned widely, hearing Perenelle and Nicolas applause to him at the back-porch of the house.

But then then something started to happen. Feeling a strange drain, Evan tried to pull his hands free from the circle only to find that they were as if glued against the circle. And the circle wasn't fading away as it was supposed to. Frowning he looked at the circle again, trying to figure that was going on, why the circle wasn't fading and what it was trying to accomplish. It was drawing his magic on its own, powering the Transmutation with his energy as well as with the elements, there had to be a reason for it…

But before he could determine the source or cause of the malfunction, he felt the energy that had been drained away rush back to him. Red and yellow and white and blue and green fought over each other and as Evan's mind was overloaded with power and light, he thought he saw a pair of malicious red eyes flashing in the back of his mind. He could hear someone crying out his name before everything faded away into blur of colours and light.

---

Strangely enough, I have nothing to say about this chapter. Thank you all for your reviews and sorry about the possible grammar errors


	5. IV chapter

**IV chapter**

There was a boy sitting in the foot of his bed, arms loosely warped around his bend knees as he looked down upon Evan with thoughtful expression. The boy looked very familiar - the messy short hair and the striking green eyes behind black-rimmed glasses were much like his own, though Evan's hair was slightly longer. Unlike Evan, who usually wore white shirt, black vest and black pants, the boy was dressed into enormous loose… shirt with short sleeves and ragged large pants of strange cut. And where Evan had been slowly getting stronger and taller thanks to Perenelle's cooking, this boy at the foot of his bed was scrawny and thin.

"Evan, huh? Or is it Evangelos…?" the boy asked quietly while Evan stared at him with confusion. "I suppose it's fitting. Named after mum. Do you have a last name?"

"No…?" Evan murmured with confusion while sitting up - or trying anyway. When he tried to get up by leaning into his elbows, his arms quaked with strange pain, mixture of burning, freezing, cutting, prickling and painful pressure. With a sharp intake of breath, the Alchemist's student fell back to the bed, his head dizzy with the sensation.

"I wouldn't try to get up if I were you. You got hurt pretty badly, even in this place it must hurt something fierce," the boy at the foot of his bed said thoughtfully. "I'm not sure why, though. I can't say I ever was any good in Alchemy or magical theory or, well, anything of the sort. I was pretty good in Duelling and Defence, as well as flying, but that's about it… nothing like you, really."

"Hurt?" Evan asked while trying to breath in and out steadily while forcing the sensation of the pain away.

"I don't know what really happened, but what I could gather from your fumbled memories say that you did some kind of ritual - there was this glowing circle and everything… and I guess it sorta backfired. At least that what it felt, that overflow of magic."

"Backfired, huh?" Evan frowned a little. "Ritual? Yes, the Transmutation. I tried to Transmute a Cloudsage, and I used the Chinese Elemental Formula in it… too much power, I used too much power. The Cloudsage didn't need that much power, and when it was made the energy had to go somewhere. As I was connected to the circle, it went to me…"

"Kinda like electric shock, huh?" the boy asked thoughtfully before shrugging. "In any case, it did a number on you. Your hands are pretty much mangled. The skin has some horrible burns in it, and I don't even want to know what else happened. Not that I really know either, I'm no healer."

Evan blinked slowly before turning his head to look down to his hands. His hands were bandaged; even each individual finger was covered in gauze. When he experimentally tried to move his fingers, he felt a shock of that same five-part pain run through his hand and up his shoulder. "Ow," he murmured rather flatly and the boy nodded in agreement.

"Someone has been healing you, though," the boy continued. "At the beginning your bones were, ah, mush. Someone vanished them - or what was left of them - and started to then re-grow them. With Skele-Gro I'd imagine, sure felt like it. The process I complete now, though, so all that's left to heal are the softer tissues."

Evan nodded. It had probably been Nicolas's potions and Perenelle's herbs. He made a mental note to thank the old couple, before his eyes came to the boy sitting near his feet. "Who are you?"

The boy smiled a sad, sheepish smile. "I'm you before you forgot who you are."

"Huh?"

"Yeah," the boy nodded and motioned him to look around. With confusion Evan did so, finding that it wasn't his book-stuffed room in Philosopher's Grotto. Instead it was another room entirely, or was it a room at al? It was tiny, looked more like cupboard than a room, yet there was a window and closet, bed and table too… and in the corner there was a bookshelf which looked exactly like the bookshelf he had in his room at the Grotto.

"This is the room of your mind, you could say," the boy said. "It didn't always look like this, though. In my time it was made of stone, it was larger, the bed was comfier, it had fireplace, window - looked lot like Gryffindor dormitory and common room combined actually. I made it that way, I wanted to be comfortable with my mentality, having a fit mind helps being better Occlumens, you see."

"Occlumens? You mean you could shield your mind from mental intrusions?" Evan asked curiously.

"I had to learn, it took some while, but I think that in the end I did a decent job." The boy snorted lazily. "But now all my work seems to have been shot to hell. Well, it's not like it matters right now. Unlike me, you aren't in the danger of having your mind invaded or possessed."

Evan blinked slowly and looked around in the room. "So… this isn't real? This is happening in my head?"

"Yeah, pretty much. That head of yours used to be _my_ head, but at this moment I don't feel like it's my place to take it back so you can keep it," the boy shook his head and glanced at him. "You're taking this better than I expected. I sure as hell wouldn't take this as easily as you are."

"I'm going to be a scientist; I try to think things rationally. And I've been without memories for good year now - over year, actually," Evan frowned a little. "Even though I got adjusted to it, I did have a feeling that I would have to face them eventually."

"And here I am," the scrawny boy sounded sarcastic. "Disappointed?"

"Not really, you're pretty much what I imagined myself to be," Evan shrugged in way person lying down could. "So… what's your - my - name?"

"Harry James Potter, but feel free to remain Evangelos. It's nice enough name and with Evan in it, it seems like nice tribute to mum. I've been told that she was great witch and that it's thanks to her we're even alive at this moment," the boy said with strange severity.

"Harry James?" Evan asked slowly. "And Potter too… but Lord Jacomus Potter said that I am not a Potter."

"We are," Harry said even more sternly. "He just doesn't know you, us, that's all. Our father was James Potter, whose father was Harold Potter and so forth… wait, Jacomus Potter? What kind of name is Jacomus?"

"I don't know," Evan admitted. "I suppose they think it's a nice name." He then peered at his younger self curiously. "How can I be a Potter and how can he not know it? It doesn't seem to make much sense."

"Right now it doesn't, but it will, sooner or later," Harry shrugged. "I'm not really sure if this is the right time, though. I want you to be more comfortable in your skin before I drop that bit of dung to your lap. I suggest you get adjusted to your life - get new last name and solidify your personality, your life, all that jazz. And shave, that fuzz on your chin doesn't look good on you."

"I can't get my old personality back?" Evan asked with confusion. "I can't get you back?"

"You could, but I don't think that's a good idea. For one, you're so much better than me. I'm bipolar teenager with too many problems, most of the mental, to handle. Bit of a loser really. And you, you are level headed young scientist in making. Trust me, you're better off being who you are than trying to become me," the boy snorted while leaning his chin to his knees. "And I kinda want to remain as me. Living as spirit behind your consciousness isn't actually living, but at least this way I stay myself. If you and I mingle, merge or something of the sort… I'll vanish. I don't want that. At least not yet."

Evan looked at the scrawny boy, before nodding. "Okay then," he agreed, not seeing any harm in it. "Why are you talking to me now? Why haven't you talked to me before?"

"I think I can only talk to you when your consciousness shuts down - when you black out," Harry mused thoughtfully. "And you haven't been knocked out since the beginning, and back then I was just as disoriented as you were, so I couldn't really talk to you like I do now."

"I have to lose consciousness to be able to talk to you? That doesn't seem practical at all."

"Neither does split personalities," Harry shrugged. "But what can you do. Maybe if you become Occlumens yourself, or at least try meditation… maybe then we can talk. It's worth the shot, I suppose. Besides, I've been told that meditation does wonders to inventors and artists, so you should try it anyway. It might help you with that Alchemy stuff. Not to mention it would be nice if you would clean this place up," the boy motioned at the room. "It's a dump."

"Okay, I'll try," Evan nodded, before everything started to turn blurry. "What's going on?" he asked worth confusion. "Everything is starting to fade."

"You're going from unconsciousness to sleeping," Harry answered while starting to fade away. "Sweet dreams, Evan."

-

When Evan woke up, it was mid day, there were no birds chirping outside and the tree just outside his window - tree he had last seen not only full of leafs but with makings of fruits - was completely naked. It was not only autumn now, but late autumn, meaning that he had been sleeping… for weeks at least, few months worth of weeks.

Swallowing to ease the dryness of his throat, Evan closed his eyes for a moment before gathering some strength and looking around. After coming to the conclusion that it was indeed his room in Philosopher's Grotto and not some mind-room, he let his eyes wander down to his hands. Just like when he had met Harry, his hands were covered in layer of gauze and when he tried to move them he felt flare of that burning, spiking, freezing, crushing and cutting pain.

Evan grumbled quietly while trying to calm his heart down after the sensation of the pain had thrown his breathing off from its usual rhythm. As soon as he got his breathing somewhat steady, he wondered about what he was supposed to do now. To call if someone was around, to help him, to tell him what had happened? He wasn't sure if he wanted to do that just yet, after all, what had happened was a bit embarrassing. Not to mention that he needed time to contemplate about Harry, his other self who apparently lived in the back of his mind as a ghost of the person who he had been before.

The young Alchemist's student sighed. He had obviously been sleeping for a long time, and the Flamels had obviously taken care of him while he had. Gratitude overcome the shame of being knocked out for that long by his own Rune circle as well as the confusion about his other consciousness. So, as difficult as it was with his dry throat, he called out to hear if someone was around. "Nicolas? Perenelle? Anyone?"

Immediately he heard clattering of wood as if someone pushed back a chair. Then he heard steps. And then, not much after, the door to his room was opened to reveal hopeful looking Nicolas, whose expression lightened up greatly at the sight of him awake. "Evan! You're finally awake!" the Alchemist cried and rushed forward. "How are you feeling, are you away, do you need anything, water maybe? Are you hungry?"

"Nicolas…" Evan murmured with confusion and shock. Nicolas could babble - when he was excited - but Evan hadn't seen the Alchemist like this. "I'm fine," Evan answered after the elder man had stopped to listen him. "My throat is dry and my hands hurt something terrible, but I'm fine. How long have I been out of it?"

"Nearly three months now," Nicolas sighed while sitting down beside his bed. "At first we weren't sure if you would make it at all. Not only did you have extremely high fever for days, but whatever happened back with that Transmutation it nearly destroyed your hands completely. I had to invent a potion to repair some of the damage yet I think it will be a while before you can use them again. Perenelle has been trying to heal them but with little success, there's something in them which prevents us from healing your tissues, only the bones could be repaired… "

"But after we got your bones healed, you seemed to get better. The fever subsided and you started to look healthier… yet you didn't wake up. First not for days, then weeks… when the first month was over we begun to worry that you never would wake up," Nicolas smiled to him. "Yet you did, and I thank all gods for it. You certainly worried me, young man."

"I'm sorry, I miscalculated," Evan whispered with dry voice. "Too much power for simple thing -" he paused as Nicolas quickly turned to the table beside his bed, where metallic goblet and water pitcher lay. The Alchemist poured him some water and helped him to drink it. "Thank you," Evan spoke after he had taken few gulps to ease the dryness of his throat.

"We figured it had something to do with power, but couldn't be sure as neither me nor Perenelle is that good in understanding Rune magic," Nicolas nodded. "I guess you used too much power in the circle and it back fired?"

"Yes. The elemental formula was unneeded, I think," Evan murmured thoughtfully and a bit uncertainly - not to mention uncomfortably. The idea of being so far off in his calculations that it sent him in coma for months didn't ring any sweet sounding bells in his head. It frightened him, it really did, and if the pain in his hands was supposed to be a warning, then he was indeed hearing it loud and clear. "I… don't really want to think about it right now," he admitted softly.

"Understandable," Nicolas nodded. "But we still need to talk about one aspect of it. Your hands. We can't heal them, there's some foreign magic in them stopping us from doing so. We thought it might be from the circle, but… what do you think?"

"I read from somewhere that magic is like fire." Evan sighed closing his eyes for a moment. "Little of it feels good - like fire can be nice and warm when you are cold… but too much of it causes pain and scars. The power channelled through my hands and perhaps lingered in them - so I guess they are magic burned. And purely magical wounds, they… they take a while to heal and rarely can be healed by potions or healing arts."

"And usually the magic which caused it stays with you in one form or another," Nicolas frowned thoughtfully before nodding. Then he glanced at him worryingly. "Can you handle it? Is the pain too much?"

"If I don't move my hands, its okay," Evan nodded. "I just need to fill my mind with something else to distract myself from it, and I think I have something I can do without moving around much…"

"And that is…?"

"Occlumency. Or at least meditation," Evan frowned a little. Though he didn't really believe in the uses of meditation, he would need to master if he wished to talk to his previous self and he really wanted to do that - wanted to learn about his previous life and self and all other things he had forgotten.

Nicolas blinked with surprise. "Why would you want to learn that?"

"I…" Evan paused, wondering if he should tell or not. Then he decided that there was probably no harm in it. "When I was unconscious I met a… boy in a strange room. I'm not sure if it was a dream or some kind of vision or if it was really what he said it was, but he said that the room was the room of my mind and he was the person I was before I forgot who I was…"

"Your previous self?" Nicolas sounded surprised.

"That's what he said," the Alchemist's student nodded. "He said that he lived behind my consciousness as some kind of other personality or something of the sort… and that we could only meet when I was unconscious, which I haven't been since the plague. He also told me that he was Occlumens and that we could maybe meet again if I learned to be one also - or at least learned how to meditate."

"Occlumens?" Nicolas eyes widened in shock. "You are what, eighteen now. Year without memories would make him seventeen, yet he knows Occlumency? That's quite the accomplishment."

"He didn't seem to think so. I think he had in strange twisted low esteem, saying that he was only decent in duelling and defence, but that was about it. Oh, and flying… I think. He also said in backward way that he was in danger of having his mind invaded, which was the reason why he learned Occlumency and that…" Evan frowned. "He didn't want me to remember him, I think, or my life as him. He said that I was better off as me than I would be as him … told me to get a last name and solidify my personality. And to shave my chin."

Nicolas snorted. "He got a point there, your chin has been getting fuzzy lately. You're growing up to be a man, Evan."

Evan blinked slowly. "Of all things I said about him, you respond to the one about my beard growth?" he asked flatly.

Nicolas smiled a little. "Well then, what do you think about him? Did he tell you his - your - name?"

"Yes. Harry James Potter, but he wouldn't tell me how that was possible - told me that he would tell me when I would be more comfortable in my skin, though I don't know what he meant about that," Evan shook his head a little. "And what I think about him, well… he was a bit sarcastic, outspoken and little… sad. Not to mention scrawny and thin, dressed into strangest clothing I've ever seen. I want to meet him again."

"And you aren't worried about having another personality in your head?" Nicolas asked curiously.

"Well… I don't know," Evan frowned a little. "He's essentially me, so why would I have to be worried bout him? He was strange, but I got the feeling that he only wanted the best for me."

Nicolas nodded. "I guess I'll need to trust your opinion about that. I'll see if I can get my hands to texts about Occlumency and meditation. And I'll teach you a charm to shave."

-

Things had changed a little in the time Evan had been unconscious. Ernest had started his first year in Hogwarts - and by the sound of the letters he had sent to Perenelle, he was enjoying himself there. They had had some difficulties in managing his apprenticeship and magical education, but eventually Master Blanc had agreed that Evan would be there to learn only during summers. Monna had showed her first signs of accidental magic and Perenelle was now teaching her the basics of basics about magic to decrease the chances of accidental magic - when dealing with magical plants, those could be dangerous.

After ensuring Perenelle that he was as fine as he could be at the moment, Evan was given few books about Occlumency and meditation. Reading them wasn't that easy in the beginning though, as he could hardly move his hands flipping the pages was a problem. But thankfully Nicolas had some Wordsmith friend of his - a spellcrafter, the kind of Alchemist who concentrated on magical forces and spells themselves - device a spell which would flip the page of the book the caster was reading. Thankfully it was so small and easy charm that even Monna could cast it wordlessly and wandlessly, so Evan had no further problems with reading.

He did have hard time with understanding the concept of meditation and Occlumency. Meditation was clearing his mind, thinking of nothing, just being relaxed and breathing. Easier said than done, as human mind doesn't just shut down on command and as you try not to think you just think more and more. Occlumency itself was clear to the point where the text said that it was art of protecting one's mind from Legilimency… and that's it. Evan had seen the room of his mind - as shabby as it had been - and could understand the concept of mental "fortress", but… how could you shape your own mind into that? Wasn't mind just a mess of thoughts and emotions and memories when then formed personality? How did you make a room out of that, not to mention a fortress? And the mental shields, how did you make those? By imagining that your mind was surrounded by stone walls? And, by Merlin's cottage, how did you arrange your memories and thoughts? They weren't exactly pieces of parchment you could just stack sort into a drawer.

Evan could understand that magic was mystic mumbo jumbo from most of time, but Occlumency seemed to take it to whole new level. Even in magic there were laws and barriers which made it understandable, even though it was magic you couldn't do everything with it. So, you could think about magic scientifically, but what the text said about mind… basically said that while magic was limited, mind wasn't and that you could do pretty much everything you wanted with and in your mind. Evan, who was adjusted to barriers of magic and magical sciences, had hardest time trying to comprehend the idea that mind could be like that.

So, even though he had determination - determination to see Harry again and determination to distract himself from Transmutation and Alchemy at this time - he was getting nowhere with his studies of mental magic. Even meditation seemed to be completely out of his reach, he either ended up thinking more than he liked - mostly about Alchemy which he wanted to avoid at this time - or he ended up falling asleep.

Finally, when late autumn turned to winter, he got somewhat fed up with trying and decided to take a break. Thankfully neither Perenelle nor Monna minded the fact that he spend most of time just watching the Herbologist and Herbologist-in-the-making work in the kitchen and the greenhouses. As he waited his for his hands to heal, carrying them in slings most of the time so that they wouldn't strain, bumble into objects or anything of the sort, he found that he was immensely jealous to Monna and Perenelle every time they did something by their hands in their work, even if it was grinding dried leafs into powder.

He hadn't really thought about his hands before - he rarely did anything significant with them after all. He had drawn the Rune circles with them, but that was about it so they hadn't felt that important. But like many things, you only understood what you had once you had lost it - or nearly lost it. While sitting around, unable to really do anything, Evan itched for the day he could use his hands painlessly again, swearing to himself that he would then use them to do as many things as he possibly could. That he would do special things with them.

The more and more he thought about his hands and inability to use them - and most importantly the lack of regard he had for them before - he became disgusted with himself. Wasn't that why he had liked Transmutations, because it was easier than doing things by other means? In the end, he had just been lazy. When comparing himself with his teacher, he felt even more appalled. Nicolas did _everything_ by his own two hands - potions, Alchemic substances… the man hardly ever used any form or magic, Alchemic of otherwise. Evan wasn't sure if the man enjoyed it or not, that manual labour, but it made the things Nicolas accomplished seem more… valuable than the ones Evan created.

Theories, calculations… as important they were they were just numbers and words, and even though the result of those theories could be an item, it was Transmuted one. All he had to do to accomplish that was to think and draw some symbols where Nicolas needed to experiment for hours while manipulating and mixing various potentially dangerous substances manually.

The easiness of Transmutation which had entranced Evan before suddenly made him ill. The fear of future failures, and the embarrassment and pain for the past failure just added to that feeling until he was very resolute about the fact that he wouldn't touch Transmutations for a long while, if ever. He needed to find another path of Alchemy, something which could make him content - because in the end, Transmutations had never made him content, just proud and smug.

But what could that new path of Alchemy be? Not potions because he couldn't really feel them in the way Nicolas could - they didn't feel… easy or natural to him. Not to mention that he wasn't overly interested about them. Herbology wasn't it either, though he understood and to extent liked plants he wasn't sure if he could dedicate his Alchemic career to them. There were the magical forces, but after what had happened with the Elemental formula he felt that it was best to stay away from them - not to mention that he couldn't hold his wand not to even mention about using it - he actually hadn't used it at all even though Nicolas had bought one for him.

"Still bored?" Nicolas asked one night while they were up in the roof, examining the early winter night sky. The Alchemist had set up their equipment alone as Evan's hands were still in slings, but thankfully the injury didn't prevent Evan from peering through the telescopes. "Or should I say indecisive? I've been noticing that it's not that you _can't_ do anything, but you don't _want_ to. You still could do Transmutation calculations with self writing quill, but you don't…"

Evan sighed and shook his head. "I don't know," he murmured quietly. "It just seems so meaningless. What is Transmutation anyway? When you don't look at the fancy calculations and such it's actually the easy way out. I can do a wooden doll - pretty good one too - by Alchemy, and it won't even take long… but what does it mean, where's the weight of it, the importance?" He frowned. "Wouldn't it be more… wouldn't it… I don't know. If you put a Transmutated doll beside handcrafted one, which is more valuable?"

Nicolas looked at him with surprise. "Now that you can't use your hands you understand the importance of things created by them?"

"I used them in so meaningless, mundane things," Evan whispered and looked down to his hands. They were still covered in bandages, and he still hadn't dared to look at them without the bandages, hadn't dared to see what they looked like. He feared that they would be purple with burns. "I can do nothing special with them. Not like you or Perenelle or even Monna and Ernest. The greatest achievement of my hands is my writing skill, which at best is barely legible."

Nicolas chuckled. "You're too harsh on yourself. Your Runes are absolutely beautiful, you know as much."

"That I had to learn because it was necessary for Transmutation circles, but…" Evan grimaced. "Ignoring that, what can you do with Runes?"

"Oh, my foolish student, have I really taught you this poorly?" Nicolas shook his head sadly. "Great deal of things can be done with Runes - Transmutation Rune circles are just _one_ way you can use them. For example, magic carpets are all woven with Runes, it's what makes them fly - given, they're all Arabian versions of the Runes but none the less. Other magical items only work because of Runes. Ward making - which in self is one of the most difficult forms of spell work - requires both Runes and Arithmancy, both which you are good in. Wordsmiths, spell crafters also use Runes and Arithmancy when they create new spells."

Evan was little embarrassed. Of course he had known that, but he hadn't remembered it. It hadn't seemed important as only reason he learned Runes and Arithmancy was because of Transmutations.

"I'll tell you what, I'll get in touch with that Wordsmith friend of mine, and have him stop by. He knows more about Runes than I do, so maybe he can help you with this magic-crisis of yours," Nicolas chuckled and bowed to peer through his telescope. "He was most interested about you when I told him that you had nearly destroyed your hands with overuse of elements anyway."

Evan nodded in thanks, and suddenly his academic future didn't seem so bleak.

-

Bryn Wenlock was a… windswept man, that was the first thought Evan got of him. He had strange greyish black hair which really looked windswept - and like wind was still blowing at him, even inside the Grotto where there certainly was no drafts. He was also frighteningly observant - and informed.

"So you are the kid Nicolas has been talking about. Found you in London sick with the plague and no memory of who you are, healed you, taught you, you took up Transmutation and then busted both of you hands with power - and was there something about another personality as well?" he man asked while peering at Evan with his sharp grey eyes. And is that a Sowilo in your forehead?"

"How - wait - what?" Evan asked with confusion, not really knowing what he was asking - how the man knew about his history or what the man meant by Sowilo."

"Sowilo, that thing," the Wordsmith pocked Evan's forehead, right to the old jagged scar Evan had had since before he could remember. "A Sowilo - S-variant of it. You know, Sowilo? Sól, Sôwilô, Saewelô, Sigel? From old Scandinavian Runes? Baldur's Rune, Rune of Sun and Air, sixteenth in the old Futhark?"

Evan just blinked with confusion, causing the man's eyes widen, before the man turned his accusing eyes to Nicolas. "You said that the kid knew Runes!"

"He does! The usual ones anyway," Nicolas shrugged. "Not the strange Scandinavian ones you use."

"Hmph! Then he has no right calling himself a Runemaster," Bryn murmured with annoyance.

"I never have called myself Runemaster, I just used Runes in Transmutations," Evan frowned a little. "What's a Sowilo?" he then asked. He had never really thought about the cut in his forehead, he had just though he had banged his head to something when he had been little, but now it started to seem that there was more to it.

"Sowilo is the Rune of sun - means sun actually. It's known as a victory sign, but it can also be used as attack force or strength. It's a positive Rune generally because it's sun's natural energy. Clear vision, light's victory over darkness…" Bryn trailed off. "It's a powerful Rune, but then again, all old Furhark Runes are. How did you get it to your forehead?"

"I don't know, I can't remember," Evan admitted, wondering if Harry knew and once more annoyed that he couldn't ask.

"Pity," Bryn murmured and pocked the cut again. "It is clearly magical so it was magically made also - it must have many interesting powers…"

"I'm sure," Nicolas looked amused. "However I didn't call you here so that you could poke Evan's forehead."

"Again pity," the Wordsmith sighed. "Well then, Nicolas old boy, what do you want?"

"Ever since the Transmutation Incident Evan has been feeling a little down, and indecisive about what he will do when he's up to doing something. I was hoping that you, as you walk in same paths as he does when it comes to academics, could help him a little, give him some insight about Runes, Arithmancy… things like that. Also he needs help in learning meditation."

Bryn thought about it. "Well, if I can get lodgings here and eat Perenelle's food for free, I don't see anything wrong with it. I always like helping aspiring Arithmancers and Rune users with their studies - maybe I'll even teach some _proper_ Runes to your student… meditation? Why meditation?" he then asked.

"That sounds suitable," Nicolas nodded. "And he needs help in talking to his other self - the other personality which lives behind his consciousness."

"Ah, I see," Bryn nodded. "We'll be concentrating onto that then, at first anyway."

-

"Sowilo, sign of victory and attack force, positive Rune?" Harry's voice asked with curiosity in that hazy moment between attempt of meditation and sleep as Evan tried and failed to contact his inner self. "Sowilo, well that is interesting. It always represented death, distortion and destruction to me - sign that I was something I shouldn't be, something that shouldn't be _able_ to be, and something I certainly never wanted to be. Sowilo, my my… might it be that there was a mistake done somewhere in the midst of interpretations? Wouldn't surprise me much…"

Evan tried to answer but was falling into the calm darkness of sleep too rabidly. Harry's voice changed from amused to annoyed. "And you still haven't done as I asked, have you? Evan, get a last name. It should be the priority. Don't you know how _important_ family name is? Until you get one, we are still in danger of mingling with one and another. For sake of all curses, solidify your personality, and do it as soon as you can!"

---

And again I can't think of anything to say about the chapter. Sorry for possible grammar errors, and thanks for you reviews and more is _always_ appreciated.


	6. V chapter

**V chapter**

Evan rested his head against the back rest of his chair and sighed wearily. In the teaching of Bryn, he had learned much and quick. Bryn taught him a trick to meditation - surprisingly easy one of just watching the images behind one's eyelids - and after that they had been concentrating onto Scandinavian Runes - which also had been used by many other early cultures. By the time mid-winter came, Evan was bursting with Futhark, seeing the Runes when ever he closed his eyes and went to bed. As much as he liked knowledge and Runes, Futhark wasn't his kind of information as it was more closely related to Divination than Arithmancy.

Another problem was Harry. Ever since Evan had started to meditate twice a day - twenty minutes each morning and evening - Harry had started to urge him with a single request/order. "Get that damn last name, Evangelos!" it really seemed to be important to Evan's previous personality, though the Alchemist's student couldn't understand it himself. The other personality seemed to be very interested about Futhark ever since finding out about Sowilo, and his grim eagerness somewhat annoyed Evan.

Harry had been changing too. Each time Evan entered that room of hid mind where Harry now lived, Harry was a bit grown. He wasn't a scrawny boy anymore, more of a thin young man, but he was getting stronger as if he was eating better or something - which was ridiculous, as a personality Harry couldn't eat at all. Yet he was growing up.

"Just ask them," Harry had urged him the last time they had spoken. "Nicolas or Bryn, ask them if they could adopt you. Evan, you need a last name."

Sighing, the Alchemist's student opened his eyes to stare up to the ceiling. Then he looked down to his hands. They had been getting better - much thanks to Bryn who had made some strange runic wristbands for him, to help him heal and bare the power which was flowing in his hands. The hands were no longer in slings and he could feebly move them, but any lifting and sharp movements were out of question and they were still covered in bandages.

"Troubled?" voice asked from the door of his room and Evan looked up to see Bryn standing there with yet again another book of Runes. "That was one heavy sigh."

"Just tired," Evan shook his head. "I'm sorry, Bryn. You're excellent teacher and the subjects you know about are incredibly interesting, but I'm… too academic to really understand all you teach. Too rational."

"Yes, I've been noticing that as well. Linear thoughts," Bryn nodded but stepped in none the less, leafing through the book. "Yet I'm not really here as a teacher, am I? No, I'm here to give you inspiration about some future line of knowledge you could pursue."

"Hmm," the Alchemist's student nodded, carefully flexing his aching fingers. "I'm sure you could give inspirations to some, but I'm not really that inspirited. No offence meant, anyone else - Harry for example - would enjoy your knowledge immensely, but I hardly understand meditation and your Runes confuse me…"

"Now there's a thought," Bryn looked up to him.

"Huh?"

"Harry. He is your other personality, right?" Bryn said. "So, basically, you two are two different minds in single body. Yet only you have been in control for at least year and half now. Why can't he surface once an a while? Take control?"

Evan looked at the wordsmith for a moment before shrugging faintly. "Harry doesn't want to. He doesn't say it aloud, but he's far more content being what he is now than trying to become something else. He prefers me in control. Says that I'm better than him, but I suspect that it's because he has nothing here."

"Nothing? But he can remember the time of before, can't he? So, he should be able to remember your life before the amnesia, you know, your parents and family, what you were doing…" Bryn trailed away. "He should have _something_, shouldn't he?"

Evan shook his head. "It doesn't seem to be so. Harry never says anything about our past or anything of the sort, but I get the feeling that there's nothing here. I don't know why but it feels like Harry is… misplaced and that's why he prefers for me to be in control. He's a stranger in these lands, that is what it feels like."

"That's interesting interpretation of someone younger than you," Bryn murmured.

"I don't know how age has anything to do with this, but Harry is older. I'm year and half years old and he's seventeen so he's older," Evan shook his head. "And Harry _feels_ older. Smarter, more experienced… knowledgeable. He has seen things I can't even imagine - which I don't _want to_ imagine…" he frowned a little. "And he…"

"He what?"

"He's powerful. Mentally, he has this strength of will I doubt I'll ever have," Evan shrugged his shoulders again. "I suppose I could ask him if he wanted to surface, but I doubt he wants to."

"Can you ask him now?" Bryn asked excitedly, apparently not about to believe anything Evan had said until he had proofs.

Evan sighed again and nodded before closing his eyes and concentrating to look at the images behind his eyelids, trying to forget everything else. The blurry images shifted and shifted, nothing was really clear but it was still strangely fascinating to look at. His breathing slowed down, he could feel his body relax… And then, like always, he felt Harry reaching for him to help him. His other self grabbed onto him as if taking hold of his hand, and tugged him forward, pass the barrier Evan himself couldn't for reason or another cross.

And then he was in the room of their minds. It was different now, not that tiny cupboard-cross-room, but bigger, made of stone. The cot had changed into four poster bed and the bookshelves had grown. There was a colourful carpet on the floor and table in the middle of it, along with two comfortable chairs. Harry was sitting on one of them, reading one of the mental books, which according to Harry contained some of the memories and knowledge they knew - archive of their mind or something similar.

"Good day, Evan," Harry said to him with a sharp nod. "Are you practicing again or do you have something specific in mind?"

Evan blinked slowly to clear what he saw. Harry had changed a little since the last time. Now he looked physically _older_ than Evan did. Shaking away the questions about that, Evan nodded and sad down on the other side of the table. "Bryn actually sent me here," he spoke as Harry closed the book and placed it on the table. "He wanted me to ask you if you wanted to, hm, take control of the body for a while. I think he wants to talk to you. Nicolas and Perenelle probably want that too, but I'm not sure, they haven't said anything."

Harry narrowed their emerald green eyes thoughtfully at him, and Evan couldn't help but shift uncomfortably underneath the gaze. It always felt like Harry could see right through him, but this time it was worse. It made Evan wonder if his other self knew Legilimency as well as Occlumency, but he wasn't sure if that kind of skills would work inside one's mind. "Take control of the body, hm… what do you think?"

"As content as I am with the way things are, it _is_ your body too," Evan shifted again in his seat. "I like being control most of the time, you know that, I like that freedom and I thank you for it, but I can't help but feel guilty for it. The body is originally yours."

"You know I prefer you in control," Harry said calmly.

"I do. I'm still feeling slightly guilty," Evan shook his head. "I can't help it."

"Heh," Harry leaned back in his chair, eying Evan with thoughtfully, narrowed eyes which again seemed to pierce right through any surface they saw. "I guess the two of us aren't as different as I originally thought. Very well then, I shall take control of the body - for a little while."

Before Evan could say anything, Harry started to fade and eventually vanished entirely, leaving the Alchemist's student alone in their mental room. Looking around now in the deserted room, Evan knew he was trapped there and wondered if giving control to Harry was such a good idea after all.

-

Harry opened his eyes for the first time in over year and half. Looking up and then around the room Evan had left the body in, he came into the conclusion that he was in Evan's room - it looked slightly similar to the foreign elements that had been in their mental room in the beginning. The room was tidy, the bed was made and the books were all in perfect order in their shelves. And… was that Evan's wand, lying in the bookshelf like some decorative item?

Ignoring the presence of another man in the room, Harry stood up carefully, getting adjusted to the new size of his body. Last time he had been in it, it had been shorter and whole lot thinner. Evan had certainly done some good for his poor physique, though by the feel of it Harry could kiss his good endurance good bye. Evan wasn't one to go for physical activities, so the muscle structure was as it was.

"Evan?" the other man - Bryn probably - asked carefully as Harry walked to the bookshelf. Harry ignored him again and carefully took the dust covered wand in his hand. Holding it up, he examined it curiously. Ash and dragon heartstring, according to Evan. So far from his former holly and phoenix feather, yet this wand had chosen Evan… and Evan never really used it. Wand magic had little use for Alchemist such as his other personality was about to become.

"Evan, are you alright?" Bryn asked again, causing Harry to glance at the man over his shoulder.

"I'm not Evangelos," Harry answered to the man and looked at the wand again. It looked unused, nearly untouched. Had Evan preformed a _single_ spell with the wand? Turning the wand in his hand to get it more comfortable position in his hand, he muttered, "_lumos_," under his breath, and was delighted by the sigh of light sparking sharply in the tip of the wand. "_Nox_," he muttered again and the wand darkened. Then he tried the same non-verbally. _Lumos_ and the wand lit again. _Nox_ it darkened. "Good," he murmured with certain satisfaction. "Good."

"Harry?" Bryn asked now with strange excitement in his voice. "You're Evan's another personality, this Harry James Potter person?"

"It's actually Evan who's the other personality," Harry mused while waving the wand a little, causing it shoot out small sparks. Golden and red. It seemed that the wand did obey him as if he was its master. But then again, it's the wand which chooses the wizard, and Evan and Harry were the same thing, so when the wand had chosen one it had chosen the other as well. "As I am the original one."

"Wait here a moment, I'll go fetch Nicolas," Bryn said, again excitedly, and quickly left the room. Harry smiled grimly after the man and walked back to the chair where Evan had left their body sitting. He sat down, twiddling the wand in his hand. Then he looked at the book shelf, picked one book, and pointed the wand at it. _Accio_ and one book started to fly towards him. Before it reached him, he switched the spell. _Wingardium Leviosa_, and the book froze, levitating in the air at the command of his wand's movement. _Expello_ made the book fly back to where it had came from, enhanced by the levitation spell it even slid easily back to it's original place.

Gods, it felt good to be able to perform magic again. With a crooked smile, Harry pointed at the glass on the table. _Aquamenti_ he thought, and the glass filled with water. Reaching for it with his left hand, he twirled the conjured water a little before taking a sip. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation of the liquid flowing down his throat, before sound from the direction of the door demanded his attention.

Now there were two men there, one of them the windswept Bryn. Other was apparently Nicolas Flamel, though Harry couldn't be sure. He had never seen the man in person after all, but he had the air of agelessness that certainly fit the image. Strange, how he had imagined Flamel to be about as old looking as Dumbledore had been.

"Harry?" Flamel asked carefully.

Harry nodded curtly, not really sure how to address the man. Flamel was Evan's master and teacher, yes, but to Harry he had never been that close - yes, he knew more than enough bout the Philosopher's stone, and that the man would far away in the future help Albus Dumbledore discover the twelve uses of dragon blood… but that was about it. Harry lifted the glass again and sipped the water, wondering if he was supposed to say something.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Bryn asked then while stepping into the room and taking seat on Evan's bed.

"What?" Harry asked with mild confusion.

"Holding the glass, lifting it. Evan can barely move his hands at all, yet you're…" Bryn motioned the glass in Harry's hand.

Harry looked down to the bandaged hand. He smiled grimly. He hadn't even noticed the pain. "One of the many differences between me an Evan is that I'm adjusted to pain, and he isn't." Whilst to Evan the aching of the hands must've been nearly unbearable, it was nothing to Harry who had known pain thorough all of his life. He had had headaches nearly daily which were worse. "Whilst to Evan the pain of these hands may be horrible, to me it's merely mild aching, easy to ignore."

Nicolas and Bryn both frowned worriedly while Harry sipped the water again calmly. "Evan said that you wished to talk to me?" he then asked, whirling the water in the glass.

"Yes, well…" the two elder men looked a bit confused, as if not knowing what to ask. "Evan said that you haven't told him your past," Nicolas then said carefully. "Why not? Surely it's his right to know."

"Evan is better off not knowing at this moment," Harry shrugged. "Before he has build his personality further and made himself more… resilient, he won't be able to handle the knowledge without breaking."

"Huh?" Bryn asked with confusion.

"My past and history isn't pretty or kind. It's full of misery, blood and death. Evan, at this moment, is too close to me to take it like I want him to. If I would tell him now, he would automatically remember bits and pieces of it, battles and pain and that would be more than he can take," Harry shook his head. "He is still not a full person. Just a shard of mind, easy shatter. Before he becomes individual in way humans usually are, I cannot and will not tell him."

"But…" Nicolas glanced at Bryn. "Why does he need to become full person if you two are going to mingle into one personality?"

"Whatever gave you the idea that we ever will?" Harry asked with surprise. "If I will get my way, we certainly won't. Evan, though not whole yet, is better than I am. I will not ruin him with my past. Nor will I ruin him with myself. Evan will remain as he is. I will remain as I am. We will not merge."

The two men frowned. Harry could understand why. They saw what Evan and Harry were as mental sickness. Harry saw it as the only way of keeping himself remotely sane. If they would mingle Harry's past and his desires would drive them insane, longing for the time they couldn't reach, future they wouldn't live to see. That's why they needed to stay apart, that's why Evan needed to remain innocent - so that Harry could lock the upcoming insanity into himself and let Evan be the sane part in control.

"Evan needs last name," Harry then said as the silence was stretching into uncomfortable length. "He needs to be adopted by someone, and I don't really care by whom as long as it's done."

"Why is that so important?"

"It will give him a sense of belonging, and that's important for him to solidify," Harry frowned a little. It would also give Evan some magical protection and it would affect his magic in binding way too ancient to be written in books, but that was better left unsaid.

"You're…" Bryn frowned a little. "I can't understand why you're doing this. If I were you, I would try to gain the control of my body; I wouldn't stand someone else controlling it when it's rightfully mine. Why are you doing this for Evan?"

"Because he's better than I am," Harry shook his head. "Smarter and calmer. I'm…" he frowned a little, wondering what he was. Fighter certainly, murderer also… he had used the dark arts too… "I'm unworthy," he murmured more to himself. Tainted and dirtied by what he had done and seen. Thinking that he was doing the right thing he had gotten too many people killed, just too many. "Evan is innocent. Something I haven't been in so long…" he wasn't sure exactly _when_ he had lost his innocence, but it was certainly long gone. "He deserves to be in control. I don't." Not to mention he had no idea what he would do if he would have infinite control.

He shook his head and looked at the two men before him. "Help Evan get a last name. That is all I ask," he said, took another sip of the water before laying the glass down to the table before him. After placing the Ash wand beside it, he leaned back and closed his eyes to relinquish control back to Evan. Before slipping into the darkness, he cracked one eye open. "Oh, and about Evan's future career. My suggestion would be gadgetry." With that said he slipped back into the body and pushed Evan into control.

-

Week after Harry's first - and apparently last if Harry would have his mind - moment in control, Evan was adopted by Nicolas and Perenelle. The adoption was strangely practical. Although Evan did like Nicolas and Perenelle and had inkling that they liked him as well, there was no mother, father and son love between them. Even though he would from now on be known as Evangelos H. J. P. Flamel, he wasn't Nicolas's son and Perenelle wasn't his mother. Not in the way it mattered - but Evan understood why not.

"We did have a chid once," Nicolas told him quietly after the simple adoption ritual. "A son… long, long time ago. He died before we could name him and because of the complications with his birth Perenelle won't be able to bare children again."

It was understood and it was accepted by all parties. It wasn't like Evan was going to replace Lily Evans with Perenelle Flamel anyway. That name was one of the few things he remembered, and he certainly wasn't going to give it up. Lily Evans would remain his mother and Perenelle Flamel would remain as the wife of his teacher. And Nicolas Flamel wasn't going to replace James Potter, even if he could remember nothing of the man and knew him only because Harry had fleetingly mentioned the name. So, Evan was part of the family, but not a son. More like distant cousin or nephew.

But the name… it was strange how importantly insignificant the name really was. It brought no wealth to Evan - he wasn't made the Flamel heir and if Perenelle and Nicolas would die he would inherit nothing. The Flamel family had no aristocracy either, no noble titles or anything - even though they were the oldest and quite accomplished people, they were still commoners among muggles and magicals alike. So, in that aspect the name was just a name. It gave no magic either - Evan's hair did not change in to steel grey colour, his features gained no ageless features, he suffered no physical or magical changes. He just gained a name to attach after his given one - or claimed one as Harry was his given name, Evangelos had been thought up later.

But name itself… like Harry had predicted, it bought some satisfaction, strange contentment and sense of belonging. He was _someone_ now. Not just Evangelos of no family at all, he was Evangelos of the Flamel family, not truly a son but he had been given the name fair and square. He was a full person now, even if it was only in aspect of name. And that fullness, sense of being complete and sense of belonging… Evan could tell that they would be the beginning of what would eventually solidify him as a true personality and person and not just another shard of the mind which had originally belonged to Harry James Potter.

And that meant too much to put in words to both him and Harry himself.

"Will you tell me now?" Evan asked from Harry later when they were seated in the mind room, Harry leafing through another book lazily while being sprawled across the armchair in position Evan had never sat in. Harry was certainly more comfortable and casual than Evan was, another little thing which set them apart.

"About our past?" Harry asked calmly without looking up. "I may be able to tell you _something_ now, but not everything. How about you ask me questions and I see if I'll answer them."

Evan nodded, accepting that there would still be secrets between them - probably would always be. "What was our mother alike?" was the first question which came to his mind - which when he thought of it was kind of strange. Why didn't he ask about the scars they had, or why they had caught the plague in London, or where they had lived before, or if there was a reason why they were split into two, or why Evan couldn't remember anything?

"All my knowledge is second hand as I never really knew her," Harry said. "Our parents died when we were thirteen months old and all I know of them is what I have heard from the people who knew them. In Hogwarts she was in Gryffindor house and excelled in Charms, was both Prefect and Head Girl at her time. They say that she was a level headed woman with strong will and great heart - very smart and occasionally cheeky but also very gentle and kind…"

Harry turned to look at the blank wall at their right and frowned a little before waving his hand at the wall. Evan watched with certain interest as the wall rippled and a body length mirror emerged from it. Instead of showing the reflection of the room, however, it was grey for a moment, before the greyness gave away to image of a red haired woman with emerald green eyes and gentle smile.

"This is Lily Evans," Harry said sadly, his eyes glazing with same longing which Evan found squeezing his heart. "People always said that I looked like my father except for the eyes. The famed eyes of Lily Evans…"

"How…" Evan swallowed nervously, not sure if he wanted to know. "How did she die?"

Harry glanced at him before shaking his head a little. "Not that. Not yet."

"Why not?"

"Because if I would answer it, you would ask dozen other questions after it and you are not ready to hear those answers - and I'm not ready tell. Ask me something else," Harry said sternly.

Evan sighed and thought. "How about our father then? James Potter?"

Harry motioned at the mirror and the image changed. Lily Evans vanished and was replaced by a man with round, slightly lopsided glasses and wide, mirthful smile. He had the same kind of messy black hair as Harry and Evan did, though shorter than either of the two had.

"James Potter, they said, was a prankster and cheery fellow when in school - always after laughs," Harry sighed heavily. "Brave to kingdom come and with all the loyalty of Hufflepuff though he was a hard core Gryffindor. Yet… yet in every person there is aspects not so beautiful. James Potter could, on occasion, be a quite… I don't want to say it, but _nasty_ is the only word for it," Harry grimaced a little. "Unwittingly or not he could take pranks too far and cause harm beyond anything he could see - and he didn't really care. I'm sure had he lived longer he would've redeemed himself, but…"

Evan looked at Harry's mixed expression with worry and curiosity. "Was he a good person?" he then asked, not really sure if Harry liked the memory he had of his father - or memory of what he had heard of his father. "Are you proud of him or ashamed of him?"

"Everyone does mistakes. James Potter made his, but he was a good person. He didn't delight in harming others, though sometimes…" Harry sighed and shook himself. "He was not perfect, no one is. I am more proud of him than I am ashamed of him, but I am still both."

Cryptic answer, Evan thought while Harry hid his thoughts behind the book in his hands. Harry hadn't really let him know if he thought negatively or positively of his - their - father. More proud than ashamed yet both… cryptic. Shaking his head Evan thought about something else to ask. "After they died," he then spoke. "Who took care of us?" he then came to ask.

"Our mother's sister and her family - aunt Petunia, uncle Vernon and our cousin Dudley," Harry grimaced. "They all hated us something fierce, giving us rather unpleasant childhood." He shook his head. "Things got better once we went to Hogwarts, but they never did love us and I certainly never loved them."

"Past tense," Evan noticed.

"Yes," Harry agreed, but offered no other words of that subject, not letting Evan know whether their aunt, uncle and cousin were alive or not. The elder of the two - because Harry was really the elder one - shook his head again and glanced at the younger one. "I think this is enough questions about the past for now. Maybe more later. Now, have you thought about gadgetry?"

"Uh… I thought about it, but I'm not really sure what you meant by it…" Evan hesitated.

"Sextant. Telescope. Watches…" Harry shrugged. "Muggle gadgets, technology, machinery, mechanisms. You have, or so I think, certain talent in understanding different parts of one whole, so muggle machinery might prove to be interesting."

"Hmm…" Evan frowned. "I don't see how that is related to magic. Or Alchemy - especially Alchemy."

"It isn't," Harry admitted easily, and looked at him with amusement. "Of course it isn't. Unless you make it."

"Huh?"

"Magical machine," Harry said, now with slightest smile. "Surely you've thought of things like that before?"

-

Not much after Bryn had left to return back to Britain, the Winter Solstice holidays begun in Hogwarts and Ernest travelled back to France via Portkey. The eleven year old boy was filled with new knowledge and memories of the wondrous things he had seen. While he was happily babbling away, speaking of the moving staircases, secret paths and enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, he was finally, one and half year after the plague, acting like a child should.

With the elder protégé of his teacher, Evan finally came to see what Harry meant with gadgetry and magical machines. One evening before the Solstice, Evan and Ernest visited Paris to buy some gifts, and Ernest wanted to visit the shop of Noé Blanc before they would leave Paris.

There, while Ernest chatted with his master and the other apprentices, Evan stood, feeling a bit out of place, until he notice that one of the apprentices was tinkering with remains of what looked like severely broken pocket watch. He had never known that watches had so many tiny parts. Tiny little wheels of different sixes and shapes, little screws and such… leaning closer he wondered how the apprentice could tell them all apart from each other to put them all to their correct positions.

"We get lot of watches like that to fix," Noé Blanc said to Evan, noticing the curious look. "People drop theirs by accident and then horse stops over it or its run over by a carriage - few were dropped from towers and such… and then they expect that we can still fix them with half of the parts missing and rest mangled beyond recognition."

Evan looked up and nodded thoughtfully. "I see… though I was actually wondering how can you tell all the wheels apart from each other."

"Well, by the size and shape. Some clock smiths mark the wheels by tiny markers to tell, but I've always felt that that is cheating," the watch maker said sternly and then looked at Evan curiously. "What was your name again, sir?"

"Evangelos Flamel," Evan offered his hand to be shaken and nearly winced as the smith held onto it strongly - it wasn't still completely covered from the Transmutation incident, though he could already move his hands the skin was tender. "I'm student of Ernest's guardian."

"I see," Noé Blanc nodded. "Interested about watch making?"

"Very, though more as hobby than as occupation."

"Well, as Ernest's friend you are always welcome here," Noé said warmly.

Evan nodded and smiled, sure to make use of that invitation. Then he glanced at the mangled watch again, not bothering to hide his curiosity. To his delight, the watchmaker launched into explanation about the watch while Ernest talked to the other apprentices. By the time Evan and Ernest left the watch shop, Evan certainly knew more about clocks and mechanisms. And most of all, wanted to know more.

If they could make complicated and intriguing things such as watches by non-magical means alone… then what could he do, if he would add little bit of magic into the mix?

---

There was some talk about the type of Alchemy I've written. What Evan did, the Transmutation thingies... that isn't actually Alchemy, but branch of Transfiguration, teetering on the edge of Alchemy with the aid of Runes and Arithmancy. What Nicolas does, the middle-age-chemistry-mixed-with-potions, that's what I consider actual Alchemy - and what Nicolas does is Transmutation also, just different kind and at the time it's just called Potions Oriented Alchemy rather than Transmutation. And yes, the rune-circle transmutation was based on Full Metal Alchemist.

Thanks for the reviews and all, sorry for possible grammar errors and such, and I hope you enjoyed reading.  



	7. VI chapter

**VI chapter**

Harry titled his head a bit, marvelling the sensation of his neck creaking. It was strange. He wasn't physical, but in this place, in the back of the mind which once used to belong solely to him, he felt very physical. It hadn't been like that before, when he had first learned Occlumency in those months running away and searching the Horcruxes. Hermione had been the one to teach him, actually. She and her books and her infinite well of knowledge, he had never knew just how valuable she truly was until she had sat him down and started to teaching all about his mind.

Harry had built this room of his mind to look like Gryffindor common room with bookshelves and trunks and nice comfortable fire. The books had been his knowledge and there hadn't been all that much of them. In the trunks had laid his memories. The fire represented his feelings and it could burn in millions ways. It had been comfortable place, but he had never really been there. He had known it and seen it in his mind, but he hadn't been able to inhabit the place like he now was.

It was all thanks to Evan, actually. Not just because of their strange case of multiple personality disorder. Or maybe yes. Because without knowing, Evan had created their situation.

For over a year, Harry had been nothing but a strand of memories in Evan's subconscious, locked behind a wall of disease. It was the plague which had caused Evan's memory loss, but it hadn't eaten away the memories, merely locked them away and Harry's personality with them. Harry hadn't known it in the beginning; he had been for the lack of better word in trance for over a year after that, reliving his memories over and over. He hadn't been thinking much, but he could remember that sometimes - well most of the times - he had been wondering how certain events would've turned out if he had done something different.

Then he had received a shock. Now he knew that it had happened late summer and it was thanks to Evan's overcharged Transmutation circle. Evan's hands were just one thing, the power of the five elements had rushed into their body, mind and soul and it had shaken Harry until he had, in a way, awakened. As Evan had fallen into a coma, Harry woke up in their messed up mental room. He had been confused at first, but in his mind, out of the reach of hormones and therefore out of the reach of his temperament, he had begun thinking. Strands of Evan's memories had come to him and he had begun to understand what was happening.

And where and when they were.

And once again he had something to thank Hermione for. They had once had a prolonged talk about time travelling, spurred by Harry's desperate hope that he could use the Time-Turner, return to the past and save Sirius and Dumbledore and maybe even Cedric… and she had explained it to him in clear and full detail. Not that he really understood all that much of it, but he understood that whilst some things could be changed by time travel, others couldn't. It had taken days to accept what she had said, but now it was saving his sanity.

The key was ignorance. That is why they managed to save Sirius from the Ministry originally - they had not known certain facts and others had been unclear. But with Sirius's death, Harry knew without doubt that Sirius was dead. If he would return in time to change that… he simply wouldn't be able to. Because if he would save Sirius, then he wouldn't have any reason to go back in time in the first place, therefore he wouldn't go back. And there was a change that if he would be able to save Sirius from the veil he would simply die by some other means.

"We are the results of our pasts, Harry," Hermione had said with that steely look in her eyes. "The effects. If you take the cause, what do you think will happen to the effect?"

Evan would've probably enjoyed Hermione's intelligence enormously. Nicolas too, she would've been right at home with those two scientists. Harry, though he could understand things to certain extend, couldn't really keep up with most of the things Evan knew. He was too set in his ways of acting before thinking. That was one of the many reasons Evan should be in control and he shouldn't.

Evan's ignorance was also a damn good reason. As long as Evan knew nothing about the future in way Harry knew, there was no chance Evan would tamper with it. Like this Evan was just one person among many, living his life normally. Harry wouldn't be able to. There were so many things in history part of him wanted to change, and he knew that there was a chance he would if he could. And then would happen to him? Who knew if by saving punch of people from some historical event he would also save a murdered who would then wipe out his very own bloodline. According to Hermione it would be impossible, but he didn't want to risk it in anyway.

And of course there was a chance of looming insanity and that didn't sound all that inviting either.

Harry smiled and leaned back. Evan was making good progress. Sure, Harry was urging at him at every turn, but in the end Evan was progressing very well in his path of becoming a solid personality. Evan had been on that path already before they had started communicating, actually, but now it was getting better. It wouldn't take long until his younger personality would be ready for… what ever would come after.

Evan had delved into the world of muggle machinery with, well not enthusiasm, but interest. It was alien territory for Evan, but in a way it was not as alien as it could've been. Evan, after all, didn't have the history of an actual wizard; he was more of a scientist than he was a wizard, more of an Alchemist. Therefore he could approach technology without the usual beliefs of wizards - neither with distrust of contempt nor did he have the naïve enthusiasm of Arthur Weasley. Instead Evan looked at technology with the eyes of a scientist. Slowly, logically, thoroughly. Studiously. With the determination to understand it to the best of his ability.

It would be interesting to see where Evan would take that interest. Harry knew handful of magical machinery from the future, but he suspected that his knowledge didn't even scratch the surface. Though, he wouldn't really see what Evan would do. He would only get echoes of Evan's memories here and there, some random sensations of his body and of course whatever Evan would tell him. He wouldn't actually experience it himself.

"I wonder…" Harry murmured, tapping his lower lip thoughtfully. Evan had, in a way, given life to him. Before that failed transmutation, he hadn't had coherence and capability of even this extent. Something about the powers Evan had messed with had enabled their unusual but effective split. Maybe in those powers laid a… possibility of him being able to see what Evan saw, sense what he sensed. As content as Harry was in their mental room, the things he could experience there were quite limited.

Seeing a flicker in the only other armchair in the room, Harry lowered his eyes and faced his other self as Evan materialised, in a way, to the chair. He blinked slowly. Evan looked… unlike him. It was really like someone else - sure, they shared same features, same messy hair, same emerald green eyes, but what Evan did to the body was different than what he would've done. Evan dressed differently, his glasses were different, and lately he had begun to tie his shoulder length hair back with a ribbon. It wasn't enough to make the hair tamed or sleek, but it looked less like the bird's nest Harry had had to grow up with. There was also something in Evan's face, his expressions and eyes which made the difference. Evan was very controlled and very calm, his expressions were minuscule and though his eyes could show emotions they were rather controlled as well. His smile was also different - Harry's had been awkward half grin of a teenager, Evan smiled the smile of young man.

"Hello Evangelos," Harry greeted his younger self, feeling a tiniest bit of satisfaction as Evan frowned little. His other self probably didn't even now it, but calling him by the full version of his name always caused a slight frown. Somewhere in his subconscious Evan probably didn't like the lengthy name. It at least made him little bit uncomfortable.

"Hello Harry," Evan smiled a small smile. "You're not reading today," he noted out.

"Ah, yes," Harry frowned, glancing at the bookshelves. They were filled with books of Evan's knowledge mostly these days, and usually Harry preoccupied himself by what little Evan knew about so called normal magical arts like Transfiguration and Charms and such. Evan didn't bother with them usually, as he was most comfortable leaning towards many forms of Alchemy, so Harry, as certain kind of precaution, memorised the spells Evan had only glanced briefly. Mind was incredible thing, it could record everything it was exposed to but if you could remember it was another thing - subconscious and consciousness and all.

These days, though, Harry had pretty much read a memorised everything Evan didn't bother with, so there wasn't much there to read. "You can only read same books few times before you start getting tired with them," the elder personality shrugged his shoulder.

"You are bored then? Should I read something to give you something new to study?" Evan asked carefully.

"If you want to, but you don't need to. There are still many subjects I haven't touched - Alchemy related things. I'm not very interested about those subjects, but…" Harry shrugged again before glancing at the younger personality. "So. What brings you here today?"

"Ah, yes, of course," Evan nodded. "Nicolas is going to go and visit a friend of his in Britain and I'm going to go with him. There is a shop in Diagon Alley I want to visit - according to Nicolas there is some old magical machines there that I should have a look at."

"That sounds like good idea," Harry nodded. "But why are you telling me this?"

"Well, you are kind of coming along whether you want to or not, I thought that would only be polite to tell you," Evan shrugged and looked at him carefully. "And I was thinking that maybe… maybe you wanted to go somewhere. We were born in Britain, right? We lived there so… maybe you wanted to, I don't know, visit home or something."

Harry frowned a little. Home. There was no home for him in this time - well, Hogwarts was probably pretty much the same, but still it wasn't the Hogwarts he knew and Hogwarts didn't know him. There were no places he would've liked to visit or sight's he would've liked to see.

Letting his frown melt, he smiled sadly. "There is no home for me, Evan. No place I would like to see. Thanks for offering, but you just go and enjoy yourself. I'm fine right here."

Evan frowned at his words before sighing and running his hand through the few strands of hair too short to be tied back. "So you say, but you know that I'm not entirely… I feel guilty. Sometimes I can't help but feel that I have stolen your life from you."

Harry chuckled. "Stolen, no. I gave it to you," he said softly. "And it is a gift I want you to take good care of. Even though there are two of us, we only have one life. Don't waste it - not even in worrying."

"You… are impossibly hard -headed," Evan sighed.

"Hot-headed is the usual term people use of me, but okay. I guess hard-headed fits too," Harry smiled a little. "How is your gadgetry going?" he asked to steer the younger one's thoughts away from their not-quite-an-argument.

Evan sighed, but accepted that that subject was settled. "I think it's going well. Even after Ernest returned to Hogwarts master Blanc has been very helpful. He suggested some books and gave me few pointers too. He has also given me ideas of other things I could study - Muggle sciences like mathematic, physics… things like that. I think mathematics is kind of like Arithmancy…"

Harry chuckled. "Indeed," he murmured, leaning back. "What do you think of these muggle academics?" he asked curiously.

"Well… according to master Blanc they will help me understanding mechanics and such so I am going to try and understand them," Evan said. "Master Blanc also said that if I am going to try and make something of my own, I need to study a bit of craftsmanship - I need to make the parts of my future machine after all… That's actually why I want to visit that shop in Diagon Alley, they may have some books about that kind of crafting."

Harry nodded. "Sounds like you're coming along nicely," he said somewhat approvingly, and then noticed something. Evan's hands were still covered in bandages. "Your hands still hurt? After all this time?" he asked with surprise.

"Well… a little bit," Evan admitted, fidgeting the said hands a bit. "The skin is kind of tender."

"You know that the longer you keep them wrapped up like that the longer they will take to heal completely, right?" Harry asked with one eyebrow raised. "Bandages are necessary when you're bleeding and need to keep the wound clean, but your hands haven't bled in months. They need air, Evan. That will heal them."

Evan frowned, looking uncomfortable. "I guess I knew that but… my hands are kind of… they're a bit… pinkish."

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Probably because you haven't let them get any air or sun. Let the skin breath and I'm sure it will return to the normal colour."

The younger personality sighed and nodded. "Okay, I will try that. Thank you…" he looked up with surprise. "Oh, I need to go. Perenelle is calling us to eat," turning to Harry again, Evan smiled. "I will talk to you when we will get to Britain. We'll be staying with Nicolas' friend for some days, I should have time to meditate then."

"Enjoy your trip," Harry nodded with a smile and then sighed before turning to the bookshelves. "What shall I read today…?"

-

Time didn't really matter in the mental room where Harry lived. Sometimes only a minute or two would pass to him when in reality it could be anything from hours to weeks outside. That was why Harry was rarely bored in the place where he lived. During the time when Evan was still practicing his meditation and Occlumency Harry would be reading the same book during ten visits, never having the time to finish it in between visits even though they happened in range of ten actual days.

So, no matter how many days it was for Evan, it felt less than half an hour to Harry before he was visited again by his other half. Evan seemed excited about something as he bounced as much as his usual self-control allowed. "There's a wizard," the younger personality hurried to explain. "Who has been working on the same field I'm studying now - Technomancy he calls it. I met him in the shop I told you about."

"I guess this is a good thing then?" Harry asked with amusement.

"He has been theorising about merging magic with muggle inventions for a while," Evan nodded. "He has even made things. He showed me a… well, I think it was a watch but it had six hands and it showed the planetary alignments instead of hours, minutes and seconds. He also said that he has made a miniature set of the planets…"

"Six hands?" Harry asked with surprise.

"Yeah, for the planets," Evan nodded.

Harry stared at him blankly. "For the planets?" he repeated before turning thoughtful. He hadn't thought of it before, but now that he thought about it… they were in the year sixteen-sixty-seven. Some of the things he knew - like the fact that there were nine planets, hadn't been even discovered yet. One more reason for him to withhold information.

"You… don't know what planets are?" Evan asked carefully.

"What? Of course I know what the planets are!" Harry snapped and rolled his eyes before chuckling at the way his younger half jumped. "My information and yours just differ slightly, that's all. Never mind me. Tell me more about this planet-watch making Technomagus of yours."

"Technomagus?" Evan asked with surprise before nodding. "Yeah, I guess that fits. Though he's more of Astrologist than actual Technomagus. He made the watch and the miniature set of planets so that he wouldn't have to peer up to the sky every night - he has poor eyes, you see… well, anyway. He offered to help me figuring a way to merge some of the things with magic - he's even willing to allow me to copy his notes about the planet-watch!"

"That's great, Evan," Harry nodded, though he was more happy about the fact that Evan was excited than about the fact that someone would be able to help Evan. The happier Evan was in his life the more solid he got. Then Harry noticed a slight shadow in his other half's eyes. "But that's not all, is it?" he asked calmly. "What more?"

"Well… Nicolas was called to a Guild meeting which is held in Germany," Evan murmured, looking down. "And if I go with him, I might never get another chance to learn from Mr Fancourt…"

"Then stay in Britain," Harry shrugged. "Ask Nicolas' friend if you can stay with them for a while - if that doesn't work out then send a letter to Bryn or ask some money from Nicolas so that you can stay in Leaky Cauldron. Don't just leave a learning opportunity this important behind." Evan looked up with astonishment and Harry smiled at him crookedly. "I'm sure Nicolas will agree with me."

Evan looked hesitant at first before nodding. "I will ask him," he agreed before looking up to Harry again. "You are alright with this, right?"

"Evangelos…" Harry sighed, running his hand over his face. "Don't ask me that. It's your life, you need to live it as you see fit."

"It is yours, this life," Evan muttered. "You just gave it to me."

"Exactly, and I don't expect it back. Now go and live my life. Away, shoo!" Harry made a dismissing motion and chuckled as Evan actually rolled his eyes before fading. He leaned back and turned back to the book he had been reading before Evan had appeared. His younger half's personality was getting new traits. Good.

-

Next time Evan visited Harry, he was full of tales about the planetary-watch. Evan's current teacher, Mr Fancourt, was apparently teaching Evan how to do one on his own. Harry listened to the process of the planet-watch making with half amusement and half confusion, not really understanding half of it, but understanding some. Like the fact that the watch was actually following the actual planets instead of working like real watch - each hand was connected to magical effect the planets had so they moved with the planets. To him it seemed a bit farfetched way of doing it. After all, the planets moved in rather predictable way, so wouldn't it be easier make the watch work with assumption of the cycles instead of following the planets themselves? But as it worked for Evan and Mr Fancourt, he declined from saying anything.

After speaking about the watch for a while, Evan quieted down. "I… I visited village of Eyam," he said quietly. "Did I tell you about it? During the time of the plague, some clothing were sent from London to Eyam, and they infected the village. The village, after realising what was happening, isolated itself so that they wouldn't infect more people… only handful of them survived…"

Harry examined his younger half's face. Evan didn't look exactly sorrowful - Harry wasn't sure if Evan yet knew that emotion - but he looked like he felt some form of morose pride. "It was so empty," the young scientist murmured. "So many houses were vacant. Still the villages who survived the plague were still there, still trying to make their village prosper. Still working in the fields… still living on."

"They were quite brave, isolating themselves like that," Harry noted.

"Yes. Yes they were," Evan took a deep breath and sighed. "It must've been horrifying too. It was bad enough in London, which is a very big place, but in small village like Eyam… probably every villager was infected. To live in such a small community invested by the plague, not knowing if any of them would survive…" he smiled a small smile. "The survivors are so strong now. Still struggling on. In a way I think they are living for those villagers who died - living the lives they can't live."

"Hmm," Harry nodded. He couldn't really imagine the whole plague thing. He hadn't been as aware back then as he was now, and never in his past had he been sick - well, excluding the occasional flu. Wizards in his time just didn't get sick so often, mostly thanks to what Flamel had done with the philosopher's stone. Though in his time even the muggleborns had that resilience. It made him wonder if the effect was genetic of magical - something that had eventually became natural to all wizards. Who knew.

"I think I'm going to visit there again some time," Evan said thoughtfully. "Few years from now maybe. I want to see if the village manages to get back to its feet. Sure the remaining villagers are doing what they can, but whether the village will survive… that remains to be seen."

"Not a bad idea," Harry nodded with a smile. No matter if he could or couldn't understand it, the plague and its effects would probably always remain as something important to Evan. It wasn't a happy or joyful memory - more of a nightmare really - but nonetheless, Evan would carry it to their grave. It was a good thing in many ways. Whether Evan knew it or not, it would make him stronger.

"So, have you thought about what you will do after you've finished learning from Mr Fancourt?" Harry asked to change the subject.

"Well, it will take a while before I can finish the watch and after that he will teach me how to make the miniature set of the planets," Evan looked thoughtful. "I think I should study a bit more of the muggle academics. I have an idea of what I could do, but… I'm not sure if you or Nicolas will agree with me."

"You won't know if you won't ask," Harry raised his eyebrows.

"True," the younger personality nodded before steeling himself. "I've been thinking about going to muggle school," he then said with a voice that suggested that he expected Harry to disagree with him. "I can learn some but twiddling with mechanics by myself, but I think the best way to learn about muggle machinery is to actually study them. In a school. Now, I know that it's not what wizard usually should do but --"

"No, I think it's a good idea," Harry said, chucking at Evan's incredulous expression. "I've studied in a muggle school too. For five years actually, I learned how to read and write and count… things like that. I think a muggle school would do great deal of good for you future career."

"Really?" Evan looked astonished.

"Yes really," Harry chuckled. "So go with it."

-

Sometimes Harry couldn't help but think that Hogwarts was a very cruel thing for muggleborns. Especially in the future, where education was much more important that it was now. In future if you didn't have a proper education, you couldn't get a proper job either. Young muggleborns were steered for that education for years before Hogwarts, and then they went to study magic for seven years. And after that… what? It wasn't like they could get to college with Hogwarts' graduation papers. If they wanted to get a life in the muggle world - because when he thought about it, there weren't all that many jobs free in the Wizarding world - they needed to begin studying with seven year gap. Basically they would be eighteen-year-olds with eleven-year-olds' education, no matter what they would've learned in Hogwarts. And thus those muggleborns who chose to return to muggle world after Hogwarts probably never achieved high positions. In a way they were dropouts who would always be seven years behind their peers.

But it wasn't like he could do anything to change that. There were great many flaws in the magical world, the more he thought of it the more he became certain of it - and he had more than enough time to think. The ministry was flawed and thoroughly corrupted - and apparently so was the Wizard's council. There were too few job options for the graduating Hogwarts students - and was probably the same with Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. And now just that, but the entire wizardry world was painfully old-fashioned and prejudiced. Well, it wasn't right now, at the moment muggle and magical were rather equal on that ground, but things would change in three hundred or so years. By that time wizardry world would be painfully out of date.

And as he contemplated it, he came into conclusion that it was because of the Secrecy Clause. Sure it had been made for protection - whose protection of that he wasn't so sure - but in the end it ended up being a blow to the wizardry world. As they hiding from the muggles, muggles become hidden for them as well. Pureblood families like Malfoys and Blacks and maybe even Potters could go on for years and years never seeing a single muggle. And thus they were cut of from the process muggles were making. Thus electricity would never reach magical world. Thus they would never develop further than they had now.

Well, maybe they would develop their society a little bit, Harry wondered remembering Hogwarts' pluming, the Hogwarts Express, the Knightbus and the phone booth of Ministry of Magic. But in the end those were things from the past too. Hogwarts' plumbing had been, in his time, rather crude. Hogwarts express was a _locomotive_ for Merlin's sake. Beside, these were things magicals had _copied_ from muggles; they hadn't made much of an attempt in making them themselves.

It made him wonder how did the students get to Hogwarts these days. Trains hadn't been invented yet, after all. Maybe they used wagonways. He could ask Evan but in the end he wasn't all that interested about what transport Hogwarts students used.

Sometimes, when he was most bored, Harry entertained the thought of changing the history. If he could, what would he change? Ministry of magic, obviously, needed a bit of changing - something to make sure that it would remain uncorrupted. He wasn't all that certain if the Secrecy Clause was a good idea either, some changes at least should've been made. Someone should've made sure that magical world wouldn't be left behind in the advancements muggles would eventually begin making… and, of course, somehow the prejudice and pureblood-mudblood ideas needed to be eradicated. He also entertained a fantasy of school, part muggle and part magical, where the students could learn things like math and other muggle subjects along with transfiguration and all other magical things. For people like Hermione and Evan that kind of school would've been ideal - for every muggleborn actually.

But in the end there was no way things like that could ever happen in his and Evan's life time, so they were merely amusement of his idle mind.

-

Evan made preparations the entire spring and summer to be able to begin attending in muggle university. Because of that Harry got more subjects to read while the chances of talking with Evan grew fewer. He didn't mind, though. Some of the new knowledge Evan was studying was interesting to read. And of course he wouldn't want to bother Evan's hurried studying now that his other self was so determinate to build his knowledge of gadgetry. The more of his time and energy Evan dedicated to the dream of magical machines, the more solid he became.

Eventually Harry got a word - or memory - that Evan would be attending to his chosen university in fall of sixteen-sixty-seven. It was a British university instead of being French one. Apparently Evan would be living in the dorms of the university during the school year and return to the Flamels once the school year would be over. All in all was pretty much the same arrangement as Ernest had - though with Evan he needed to actually pay for his studies. Because of that Evan would be getting also a job of sorts in some shop so that he could pay for his schooling.

"Nicolas offered to pay for me, of course," Evan said in one of the rare times he had time to meditate. "But I felt that he has already done enough for me. Besides, I am already nineteen. It is about the time I start taking care of myself."

He certainly had a right approach on his life, something which never failed to satisfy Harry. Harry knew that he wouldn't have been able to do some of the things Evan did. Sure, Evan would probably never have the guts to face a dark wizard with steady wand and determination to win, but Harry himself had never had to think of things like working and funding. He had had his parent's fortune to support him and too many troubles to begin thinking something like that.

So, Harry was proud of Evan. Already in those first moments of clarity he had known that Evan would be smarter and wiser than he would ever be, but the further they got along this path, the more certain he became. No matter how close they were to the Philosopher's Stone, there was no way they would live to see the twentieth century. Evan was the product of this century and it was fine that way. And Harry, an oddment from the future, would stay back and try not to affect anything. And when the time would come, when they would be withered and grey and about to die of old age, it would be the death of Evangelos Flamel and not Harry Potter.

---

Quite Harry centred chapter, but it was fun to write.

Someone asked if I had a beta. I don't. And I'm not very good with working with them, either. I know I should try and co-operate with one, since English isn't my first language I do tend to make mistakes... but that probably aint happening. One way or another the whole beta thing will get too complicated for my tiny attention span, it has with each and every beta I have had. At a point I even stopped reading because the whole beta thing was giving me headache.

So my apologies, but you have to deal with the possible mistakes I've made writing this. Either that or stop reading - or give me a beta who will not give me a headache and urge to strangle random people.


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